Take me Home
by Cielo VII
Summary: Edd may think he has them fooled, but even "selfish" Eddy and "oaf" Ed know that something has to be done about his situation. We live our lives with the answers staring us in the face, and yet we still feel lost... M for language and abuse
1. ED teaser

When it smells like spring outside and everything is wet and green and no one can seem to remember the snow that melted just a few weeks before... That's my favorite time of year. Double D always grabs my arm and points at birds and tries to tell me about them, but I never remember. I get them all confused in my head because to me they're all pretty and they all sound the same.

I don't like storms, though, and there are storms here all the time in spring. Last night was the worst one I can even remember!

The lights all went out and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't make them come back on. I was really scared, and I wished my mom was there, even though if she was she would probably be yelling at me to act my age. Double D says it's okay to be afraid of storms, though, because everyone's afraid of something. He said he's afraid of _him_, whoever that is. That made me feel better.

Anyway, my mom smells good and that's why I wanted her there. I like people who smell good, and she smells _really_ good! So I closed my eyes and pretended the lights were all on.

There was this one thunderbolt that made my whole house shake. It scared me so bad I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep no matter how hard I tried.

Then Double D showed up.

I don't know why he was outside in that kind of weather. I also don't know why he was outside so late at night. He wouldn't tell me. He just talked really fast and in a really weird way and then shook his head really hard like he forgot what he had to say. I understood because it happens to me sometimes too.

He was soaking wet, so I let him dry off with one of my jackets. I said he could get some clothes from my dryer but he said no that he didn't want to impose and be a burden and a selfish little freak. I guess he didn't mind being wet after all.

Usually he doesn't want to get anywhere near my bed, but he climbed right in with me and wouldn't let go of me. He was shaking really hard. I told him he should have changed clothes!

I kept drying off his face but it just kept getting wet over and over again. It didn't take long before I realized he was crying.

When I asked him what he was so upset about, he said, "Him." I still didn't know who "Him" was, so I asked him if he was scared of storms too. He shook his head, stopped, then nodded. He said he was just scared in general. I don't know what general scared him so bad, but those guys can be scary, so I just stopped asking questions.

The storm got worse and worse every second, and we both cried together. Double D kept telling me to stop, that I didn't have to cry for him.

I guess I must have fallen asleep because when I woke up, the lights were working again. Double D was still awake, and he was hovering in my bathroom doorway. He said he couldn't fall asleep at all. I said it helps me fall asleep if I eat, but he said he wasn't hungry either, that he couldn't eat even if he wanted to. I didn't get that either.

I asked him if he was sick, and he did the same thing as before; he shook his head, stopped, then nodded instead, and started crying really hard. I think there might have been something wrong, but he wouldn't tell me. He just crawled back into my bed and begged me to let him stay. I said he could, and he thanked me like a zillion times. It wasn't a problem, though; I liked having him over. He made me sad by crying so much, but I had to remember that I could be kind of a crybaby too.

This time I turned off the lights because I wasn't scared with Double D there. He smells even better than my mom does.

When we got back in bed he kept sniffling and shaking really hard. I said he could cry if he wanted to, but he shook his head. He kept holding my covers really tight. I guess he was cold, even though his clothes were almost dry now.

I think he must have been really scared, because when I tried to touch him he flinched, and then when I touched his head he yelled like it hurt or something. But then he scooted closer to me and said I could hold him if I wanted to, he didn't mind. I was glad and I squeezed him really tight because if he was closer I could smell him better, and he smelled kind of like cotton sheets or a wet dog with shampoo on it.

I think that made him feel better because he kept holding onto me and squishing his face up against me. He said he never wanted to go back home.

It didn't take long for me to fall asleep this time.


	2. EDD

Hi guys! Wow I can't believe I got reveiws! Here's a shoutout to those who reveiwed the first chapter:

Logic and Reason: Thanks for the thoughtful review. You rulez! Idk why but I've always liked fics about Edd's parents. They bother me.

donttouchmykyoya818: Thanks so much for your thoughts! At first I wasn't sure what you were saying, but now I get it, and no that wasn't Eddy's POV! It was Ed. This story is featuring "Edd and Eddy" because later on there will be a lot of Eddy. It's not really yaoi, but there will be lots of fluff and preteen boys confusion lol so I hope you'll like it anyway.

masakahitachiin: Thank you for your compliment. I hope you're still reading and you'll enjoy this chapter!

Chapter 2

Perhaps explanations are in order.

There have been many times that I watched my feet more than anything else in Ed's nightmarish room, hoping I wouldn't step on something alive... or something that once was. I once shuddered at the thought of resting myself on that damp, moldy-smelling mattress, but believe it or not, it makes me feel safer than anything else.

After a long day of beatings, both physical and verbal, I found myself crawling out my window (my mind seemingly out of the equation) and slipping through Ed's. I suppose I've always found him comforting, but normally this was only the case _outside_ his filthy bedroom. Suddenly the only thing that makes me feel clean is that gritty, naked mattress with a thin blanket and Ed, in his underwear no less, holding me protectively in his arms.

Is it so strange? Is there even any reason to wonder why I need such solace? I, myself, believe in cleanliness, not just because my (as Eddy would put it, "tool of a") father forces it upon me. What a hypocrite. What a filthy, stupid hypocritical human being. Even inside my own mind I can hardly say worse thanks to years of strict upbringing against it, but the electric jolts of rage and the chill bumps on my skin at the very thought of him say more than words possibly could.

Lately he's been home much more often, which one would think of as a good thing. In fact, one of my teachers from school told me she had been pleasantly surprised to see him at his first ever PTA meeting. She knew I must have been giddy with excitement that we could finally spend some quality time together. Yes, it's true, I'm just _giddy_. Positively _giddy_.

Rather than laughing out loud in her face, I forced a nod and saved my full-body shudder for the halls.

When you live in the suburbs and you're white, and you live in a two-story house and your parents are married, your life is perfect. If you say otherwise, you're considered a whiny crybaby who has never experienced any real pain and therefore must endure a barrage of sarcastic "boo hoos" and then, most likely, a fist to the chest.

I'm no whiner. Usually. I know what goes on in people's lives elsewhere; I've seen the news, passingly, delivering depression for the price of a cable package to all the good little boys and girls. I AM grateful for the material things I have, and I hope that someday, when I have the resources, I can do something to change the world for the better. However, there is absolutely no rule against disliking the abuse you endure. You hear me out there? People may not see the scars because they're hidden under your shirt or inside your soul, and they don't want to see them unless you've got the appearance to back it up. But I don't. My parents are rich and successful, and therefore they never hurt me. They are rich and successful (how nice for THEM) and therefore if they do happen to hurt me, it's for my own good because I am ungrateful.

That is one of the many reasons that no one can know about my nights in Ed's basement, crying my heart out while he holds me like a normal mother would.

If people knew where I went at night, while my parents either slept, worked, or fought, assumptions would be made. I can't risk it, for either of us. All I really want is a place to call home, where I can feel safe. I'm beginning to realize (secretly, of course) that what people see, even what they've perceived and been made to believe their entire lives, isn't always the reality. I knew all along, but now I know how deeply it applies to my own life. I know that "a roof over my head" doesn't... or at least _shouldn't_... mean a physical roof, made from materials, but a shelter made from the love of those around you.

Even when people aren't related by blood, this shelter can exist. I only feel this protection when I'm not in my own house, with those two people whose blood flows through my veins.

On the night I went to sleep in Ed's bed for the first time, I heard my father say something I'd never heard him say before. Often when he flew off the handle and felt the need to call me worthless or something even more scathing, he lowered his voice as if keeping it between us would soften the blow. It is hard to get used to, I'll admit, but I believe I did.

Still, it hurt to hear him say those four words:

"Father, stop it! You can't treat me like this, I'm your son!"

With his face just inches from mine, his hand on my belt buckle, he growled, "I wish you weren't."

Witty remarks, unnecessary asides... what I would do to get our old routine back. If only he had stuck his hand inside my ribcage and torn out my heart (though at the moment, he may have done well to check my stomach first, because I think it settled there at that moment) instead of saying those words. Perhaps the physical side of my parents' abuse was what made me this way, but somehow words hurt me so much more. In fact, there's something almost _right_ about the times when it only takes a sharp slap in the face to steer me straight. At least I feel a bit more deserving of it - SOMETIMES.

I knew what was coming once the tears began. "Oh, great!" he cried. "Now you're crying! What do you want from me, Eddward? Do you want me to be a perfect daddy? WHAT THE F*** DO YOU WANT?"

His hand seemed to be full of my shoulder blade as he dragged me into the basement. This was where we went when it was even more crucial that the world didn't hear us.

Him.

His tactics succeeded and my tears receded as he pounded me, his fist around my hair, tangled in it. This time he was silent, but each thrust was like a repetition of those words. I knew I wasn't wanted, but I had naively preferred that they not say it so bluntly.

_Yes_, I thought to myself. _That is what I want you to be..._

He left me there when it was over and said the same thing as always: "Tell anyone and I'll bury you alive."

It may sound like a strange threat, but it was one of my biggest fears. Sometimes I'd wake up at night and think I was inside a box underground and that he'd gone through with it. My oxygen would be ripped from inside me, my hands unable to reach up, my shoulders pressed against something, my head unable even to move to the side... I knew he'd do it. I knew he was serious.

I retrieved my hat and went upstairs, past him while he read the newspaper, and we pretended nothing at all had just happened. I felt lost in my bed, like it wasn't my own, so I stood before the window and watched the rain pour down. I felt its coolness wafting through the glass as I watched my breath cloud it and then disappear into itself. Thinking of the scientific properties of precipitation would calm me down.

Suddenly I longed for the cool liquid on my skin, whether it would clean me or just shock me back to reality. The muffled sound became loud and clear when I wrenched the window open and slipped through, my heart pounding with excitement. Once outside, I climbed down the tree and found myself heading across the street. I didn't look back as I headed for Ed's house, his name resonating in my mind.

Thunder was cracking above me and the lightning made my surroundings glow with an ugly white light.

Of course, you know what happened next. My dear Ed welcomed me into his room and tenderly wiped my tear-stained face and asking and saying such innocent things that it tore at my heartstrings and made me smile unconsciously.

Though sleep didn't come easily and I found myself pacing the room on more than one occasion, something told me I was safer here than anywhere else on the planet. Even the smell of old socks and Ed's odor was more comforting than my clean, Glade fresh room as I lay in his bed, snuggling my face against his sweaty tank top and linking my arms behind his back. I fell asleep with him rubbing my back soothingly, my face resting on his arm.

My thoughts were jumbled and nonsensical, but one that stood out was, "Why haven't I done this before?"

In the morning, I left while he was still sleeping. For several minutes, however, I lay beside him, stroking his damp hair and listening to him breathe, my eyes closed, my hand running across his arm.

Now may not be the time, and I certainly prefer to avoid such confusing issues, but one of the many things that I tend to overthink is my relationship with Ed. I know how the world thinks, even aside from the harsh realities to which I've been prematurely exposed at home. Ed, to me, isn't much more than my best friend. However, I sometimes view _myself _differently when we're together. He makes me feel like a nurturer, almost like a parent, and that is part of what heals me. I know he is - _flawed_... but I love him. There was a time when I wondered if my father's constant barrage of "Sissy pillow biter!" and "F*cking fag!" was accurate and I was developing feelings for him, but now it's quite obvious that I'm not. I believe in platonic love stronger than romantic love, and I know that's what we have. Perhaps a psychologist analyzing me like an interest would see my maternal feelings as a "problem," most likely stemming from a lack of such treatment from my own mother. However, I see it as a positive and as long as he needs me there to take care of him, I'll need to do it.

Overtime, I've learned to let myself be comforted by Ed without turning our friendship into yet another neurosis or anxiety. Why shouldn't I have someplace to retreat to? The tactic doesn't always work, but at least I feel that I'm needed by someone, and that I have some sort of accomplishment and purpose.

I headed home, knowing it was time to pretend I'd slept there like always. The driveway was empty - like always. I slipped back through my window (sometimes Father took away the spare key, and I was feeling too lazy and sleepy to go on a treasure hunt) and made a beeline for the shower.

Even before I stepped into the spray of warm water, I felt slightly refreshed. My mind, which was unfortunately thinking clearly again, began questioning why last night was so different. Why had my father's words affected me so much more than usual?

By now I was feeling overly-emotional and embarrassed by my actions. I felt ashamed that it had only taken one sentence to drive me into my friend's arms. I felt like a woman, and I knew my father saw me the same way.

As I let the water run through my hair, trying to let it erase my father's touch, I wondered what exactly he'd meant by that statement. Often I wouldn't think about something he or my mother had said for so long, but this time it was different. I felt like he'd said something even he wished he'd kept back, something I wasn't meant to know.

Was he saying that he had never planned on having children? Was I an "accident?" Of course I knew I was, but couldn't parents love a mistake? Perhaps he meant that he wished he had a daughter. I don't know why he would, other than the fact that it would probably be easier to do the things he did to me if I were female. Easier on his conscience, perhaps - keeping in mind that his conscience is incredibly flawed.

Did he wish he had a better son? Was I not good enough? This was the most logical answer in my mind, and I found myself washing more slowly than usual as I let it sink in. I wondered what it was about me that made him wish I'd turned out differently. Was I not strong enough? Not manly enough? Was I too smart? Was I not smart enough?

Anger was bubbling inside me, so I decided to let it go for now.

After getting dressed, I found myself home alone and not in the mood for chores. Maybe tonight one of them would come home (yeah, right) and beat me for shirking on my household duties. Intentionally skipping it (because I felt I needed a few slaps to somehow replace the words), I sat on the couch and flipped through TV channels, feeling rebellious and wishing the phone would ring beside me or my door would fling open to reveal my friends.

Getting back into my daily routine after a night like that would be a little difficult, but I knew I could manage. Even when I felt depressed enough to take my mother's medication with a bottle of special occasion champagne, I could smile. When I was with my friends, sometimes I felt I was playing a role. This was what made it so easy to pretend I was happy, to laugh. Like any good actor, I'd find myself immersing myself so much in my character that I began to believe it myself. The art of "acting," the history of theatre, would distract me from my lingering troubles as I performed.

The important part, though, was that my friends believed it. I would rather continue my charade than reveal the truth and end up trapped underground to slowly lose my mind. Inside, I figured they felt the same. Would they want to wake up one day and never see me again?

These were the kinds of thoughts I had when my mouth was saying something completely different, off-topic (to me, anyway), pointless. Eddy didn't only provide me with sweet distraction, however. Sometimes I really would find comfort and humor in his antics or words, and I'd find myself laughing for real, surprising myself but not showing it. I'd get dizzy then, and have the strange urge to hug my friends and cry, saying I was so grateful to have them. Fortunately, Ed would usually do the job for me, picking us both up and shocking me but filling me with warmth and clarity.

Lately I'd been thinking and drifting off while Eddy was talking, wondering what he would do if I suddenly broke down and told him what was happening to me when he wasn't around. What would he say? Would he be angry, upset, sad, afraid, or would he ignore me? My thoughts allowed me to take the scenario in many different directions, but my wish stayed the same: rescue. I wished that he would somehow know exactly what to do to take me away from there and do it immediately, saving me from my father's consequences. However, I knew that if Father ever suspected that Child Services (or anyone, for that matter) was onto him, he'd end it all. No question. The fear of his instability and my own helplessness kept me from revealing my home life, but I could still fantasize, and that's what I did.

"Yo, Sockhead!"

I blinked. My daydreaming had been interrupted, but when I didn't hear the call again, I figured it had been in my mind.

Just as I was settling back, I heard a knock on my window and saw Eddy giving me a look and a shrug of "What the...?"

Despite my recent fantasy about being saved by him, I felt more relieved than elated by Eddy's presence. A day of carefree antics was what I needed, even if it would involve another ridiculous scam. I jumped up from the couch and unlatched the door, noticing how many ways it'd been locked.

"You ignoring us or something?" Eddy accused before words could come out of my mouth. He kicked off his shoes and shouldered past me, followed by Ed, who gave me a smile and a wave even though he was right in front of me. I smiled back, wondering if he'd told Eddy about the night before. Already it was distant in my own mind, probably because of the relaxing effect it had had on me.

"No," I replied, sounding a lot more whiny than I'd intended. "Of course not, Eddy! I'm just..." I felt myself pause, searching for the right word. "...off. Today."

He raised an eyebrow, then continued. "Well, I called you like twice last night."

My heart jumped. What time had I left?

"I must have been asleep," I mumbled. Ed was smiling at me in a strange way; almost like he was communicating with me, trying to tell me my secret was safe. When he woke up alone, I surmised, he'd realized it wasn't to be public news. He must have known I was ashamed; he's not stupid like people - _certain_ people - say.

Last night's storm seemed to be lingering still. The sky was a bit cloudy, the air filled with warmth and unpleasant signals. I wasn't incredibly surprised (though I must admit I was slightly) when Eddy proposed we stay indoors and just "hang out." Our scams had been few and far between for the past year or so, and for this I was entirely grateful and relieved. I think it was just a phase.

It didn't take long for me to settle into normal mode, fetching some snacks and telling them to make themselves at home, as if I had to say it anyway. We played video games in the living room, a little quietly at first, quickly letting it escalate to full blown battles. Was I trying to hold onto my depression? I wondered this as I found myself noticing each time I let go and began to have _real_ fun, then seemed to stop myself.

An uneventful Saturday, I'm glad to announce. As evening drew near, Ed and Eddy called their respective homes and got permission to stay the night. I was glad for the temporary sanctuary and hoped it would last.

When we had sleepovers at my house, I always slept in a sleeping bag because it didn't feel right to sleep on my bed while they were on the floor. I think Eddy was too embarrassed to sleep in the same bed anymore, though we used to always do that when we were kids. Here, on the floor, though it wasn't incredibly comfortable, I felt safe and protected as I listened to them breathe and snore, staying awake and wondering what their dreams were like.

Rain was drizzling outside, and I could hear the chorus of cicadas. Eddy was to my left, curled up and fast asleep. Ed was beside him, snoring loudly. Suddenly I realized how incredibly _un_asleep I was. Drawing the sleeping back closer to my chin, noticing how very loud the material could be in such a peaceful setting, I closed my eyes repeatedly to find them opening again by their own accord.

It was times like this when my mind took me to places I didn't necessarily want to be. Someday, I knew I would be separated from them. I wasn't worried at all that we would lose touch or cease to be friends, but something gnawed at me inside at this knowledge and at the moment, I think I knew what.

When we parted ways, when that time would come so many years from now, would I still be living this way? Would I still be living a lie?

I turned to my side so I could see their sillhouettes, making sure they were still here with me, my friends. They were the two people who weren't forced to love me but did anyway, and yet they couldn't replace the two people who were forced to love me but didn't. Would I trade their love for my parents'? No. Would I trade my own dignity and safety to reveal my situation? Maybe.

What would it take for just one encouraging word from my mother and father, I wondered? What would I trade for that?

Sometimes, when I was alone, I would sob myself to sleep, emptying out my emotions. Now, I felt too empty to let anything out at all. Even with them here, I suddenly felt alone because I knew that once they left, I would be. Instead of crying, I felt my heart recede inside me as if it was too apathetic to beat and let out a sigh, readying myself for a night of insomnia and needless depression.

I knew that when the sun shone again tomorrow, I'd have to put on a brave face and say goodbye as they went off to church with their families. Did my parents even believe in God?

How should I know?

Yeah, absolutely nothing happened in this chapter. Sorry. Oh well, don't worry, it changes POV every time so there will be new developments next time. Hope you tune in! Review please! LOVE!


	3. EDDY

Shout-outs to reviewers:

donttouchmykyoya818: thanks for another awesome review! i hope you continue following the story, and i really appreciate your support! lol sleep is for the weak XD

n: thanks 4 the review, and do you have an account on ? if not, you should get one. you can review for people who aren't desperate enough to enable anonymous reviewers E:3 anyway, thanks so much for the kind comment. hope you're still reading and enjoying!

A message to all readers (all both of you): Sorry I keep changing the description. This is probably the last time I'll do that for this story. I just kept thinking it was too wordy and not really capturing the idea. Anyway, hope everyone is reading and enjoying, and if you have any comments or critiques, PLEASE review me and dish it out! I want to know your opinion, especially if you know how I can make it better! Thanks everyone, God bless and have fun reading.

Chapter 3

Parents are weird.

Yeah, I know it's not the most startling headline, but I've been noticing it more and more lately around here so I couldn't keep it back anymore. It's like as soon as a kid pops out of you, you lose whatever sanity existed in the first place. In my parents' case, it probably didn't take much for them to completely break. Pretty sure my big bro did the job before I came along, but the point is, they're weird.

It's not just mine, and I guess it's obvious who's next. Double D's parents have to be _the _biggest morons on the face of this rock. I think I've probably seen his mom once, and that's it. My parents talk about it; yeah, I heard them. I mean, at least _my_ mom _talks_ to me and cares that I exist. You see, the first time I ever met Edd's mom was at his house. I'd spent the night, and we were up early in the kitchen. Double D kept freaking out like, "My mom's here, so be quiet!" and all this. So Ed and I were too tired to purposely mess with him, right? Well, we were all sitting there being perfectly good when this smokin' lady walks in the room and says - to us! - "Would you boys please a bit more quiet? Other people live here, you know." And then she walks around slappin' up those flamin' sticky notes everywhere.

Edd gave us this look like, "She's in a bad mood." None of us said anything, and neither did she.

What a bitch.

So that was what, the first time she'd seen Edd in about nine years? She didn't even look him in the eye, and he didn't want to talk about it after. I think he knew, though, that he was going to get it. I don't think his parents like us being in their house.

Fortunately, they probably have no idea how much time we really spend there. Those feebs probably think we're Edd's study partners or something. I know we screw stuff up sometimes, but I doubt they're home often enough for it to matter. Edd's always freaking out like, "Father's not going to like this!" and "Father will have a fit!" That old fart should just get over himself is all I have to say.

Remember when I said Edd's mom was smokin'? Well, she didn't have a cigarette, that's for sure. I mean, not to sound gay or anything, but with a mom like that... you know, no wonder Edd's got those boyish good looks. Her legs went on for days, and she had these super sexy eyes, looking like she wanted to punch someone. Guess I'm a sucker for those "tough" girls like her. I don't think Edd likes to talk about her much, though, and now I know why.

Underneath that creamy skin and silky black hair, she's a hag.

After that, I had a strange urge to meet the man who'd bagged this chick. I thought maybe he'd be at least a hint of normal, considering Edd turned out okay. You know - okay for him. If that makes sense.

So these two boneheads force Edd to clean like a French maid (one who actually cleans anyway) and they're never even home to see his work? So what's the point then? Something just doesn't add up. I've never seen them at a science fair or a spelling bee, so I always have to stand there and watch my parents dote over him, then listen to their super loud whispers (like I'm not going to hear you when I'm sitting _right behind you?_) on the car ride home.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that even if my parents are weird and annoy the ever loving crap out of me, at least they're around for me to notice. At least they're proud of me when I do something right, you know? Edd's always winning all these awards and looking out at the crowd, where there's no one there to cheer for him other than us. Guess I haven't thought about it too much, but what if I was up there, doing something that would make any parent proud, knowing they would probably never know about it at all?

Must feel like crap.

So, despite the fact that they're stinkin' idiots, I got this urge to know more about them. Double D refused to tell me anything too detailed, although once I made him snap and he said, "They're great, Eddy! They're wonderful! They're just fine, they're perfect!" Trust me, you'd see this statement differently if you'd heard the tone he'd used.

Because I'm so nice, I decided not to breach the sensitive topic anymore than necessary. I figured I'd catch a glimpse of them again someday, maybe see his dad - _for the first time_. I wonder why I never really thought about this before? I mean, Edd and I have been friends for years, right? He's had dinner at our house a bunch of times, even learned how to call my parents by their first names. He seems to really get along with them and I think they worry about him a lot. Besides my brother's little contact with Edd (which makes sense, because he lives far away - not IN THE SAME HOUSE), he probably spends more time with my family than his own.

Let's talk about Ed's parents for a sec. Sure, they're weird, but they're probably more normal (from society's standpoint?) than Double D's. I think they have a bit of a Sarah complex, and it seems like they're abnormally strict, but at least Ed isn't completely traumatized every time we talk about them. Edd and I both know he doesn't have a perfect home life, but his parents' frustration with him doesn't really match up with how proud they get when he makes a good grade, or when he won that spelling bee, or when he finally learns something. At least they have a capacity to encourage their offspring, which I'll give them points for.

Anyway, I know those two spend time together without me (their loss) and I happen to know Ed's parents adore Double D. They think he's a good influence on Ed, and they're always sending him home with food like he's some kind of starving orphan. I happen to know how much he hates that, but he always has to be polite. As if that'll make his parents happy or something.

What an idiot.

I think Edd spends a lot of time, weeks even, without seeing his parents. They must come home really late, after sending him to bed at like 9:00 (by which I mean leaving a sticky note so he'll do it himself.) If I lived like that, it would be mayhem. Or is it chaos? Either way, I'd stay up like all night and eat nothing but ice cream because the only reason I don't do it now is to avoid getting in trouble. But I don't think Edd really gets in trouble unless it involves us.

...At least, that's the way I felt before.

Before I met his father.

It wasn't too long ago that my curiosity was partially satisfied and I finally laid eyes on the man who made the magic happen all those years ago. I'd learned, thanks to a couple of important dates, that Edd was born two and half months after his parents got married. Yeah, I've had Health class by now, and I know if a baby comes that early, it either means wedlock or curled up little dinosaur-looking thing with a tail.

I think that may be one of the reasons - if not _the_ reason - why Edd's parents treat him less like a son and more like an inconvenience that they've learned to make the best of. I used to wonder if Edd was adopted or something, maybe for some sinister plan to enslave a child genius and use him for sanitary purposes, but when I met his dad I knew that couldn't be true. He had his eyes.

Unlike his mom, this guy actually gave Edd a nod. I think he said something like, "I'm off" before running out the door, but the tension he left behind was unmistakable and I knew Double D wasn't used to this kind of confrontation.

Once he was gone, I said, "So I guess that was your old man, huh?"

Double D nodded. He stared wide-eyed at his hands on the table and said, "I think I'm in trouble."

"Why?"

"He looked surprised to see you guys here. I don't think he was very happy about it."

I just raised an eyebrow and went back to eating my breakfast. "Whatever, Sockhead." He didn't look surprised at all to me. He looked like my dad does when he leaves for work in the morning. He just looked normal.

Ed didn't seem to pick up on anything weird, but I was getting kind of confused. It just seemed like Edd's parents had been getting more and more off limits lately, and I wanted - no, _needed_ - to figure out why. It made no sense for Edd to know exactly how they felt or would feel about every situation.

It also made no sense that all of these predictions involved anger and punishment.

I don't overthink things. I barely _under_think things, for crying out loud. That's why I knew something was up when Edd's home life started bugging me out. Lately I think his dad's been coming home more often. Don't call me a statistics whiz or anything, but I've noticed a correlation between the amount of time the guy's home and the amount of flinching Edd does when I get near him.

I know I can't just blurt something out like, "I can call Social Services if you want!" I mean, I know Edd hates for people to worry about him, or something. Plus, I know he'd just keep hiding it. After all, I'm hiding it from him right back. He probably thinks I have no idea what's going on, but I'm not a freakin' drool monkey.

A couple months ago, I even saw this huge bruise on his shoulder when he was changing clothes. Guess he never thought I'd realize that he only tells us to turn around when he gets into his pajamas _sometimes_. Probably only when he has something like that to hide.

Not that I was sneaking a peek or anything.

Another reason I'm a little hesitant about striking up this forbidden conversation is Ed. You know, we really love that guy. Of course, part of his charm is that he barely takes anything seriously and doesn't know when to shut up. I don't know how he keeps the ladies away, but that's beside the point. I know that if I started suggesting something going on at Edd's place, it would turn into something ugly with Ed's imagination. Sooner or later some wild story could circulate throughout this whole flamin' place - you know, with the housewives and all. I'm just too nice to do that to Edd and even his cretin parents.

I didn't want to worry anyone, didn't want to take away Edd's pride, didn't want to mess up his family's name, blah blah blah. Those are my excuses and they're not changing anytime soon.

I just wished I could work up the nerve to ask him some startup question, you know? A little innocent inquiry to loosen him up. Guess I would have had to wait for the right time, though. It would have to be when Ed wasn't around, because we'd probably get distracted somehow. And I don't want to ask it when he's smiling, either, because I hate the way his smile disappears.

Not that I've noticed or anything, but it starts with his eyes. You know how they say people's eyes smile? Well, Edd's don't. I mean, sometimes they do, and that's the kind of smile I don't want to take away with some dumb question. I've seen it happen before, and I hate to admit it but it was usually because I couldn't keep my mouth shut about this very topic.

First, his mouth closes, but it's still smiling. By this time, his eyes have turned off like a light, and he looks down a little bit, giving the dirt a little sympathetic, insincere smile. Then he sighs, and his head cocks to the side, and he looks tired all of a sudden, and a little lost. I feel like I've just kicked a newborn kitten when I see this, so I know I'll have to say it when his face is right, too.

I also know that I can't bring it up when he's angry or depressed. I just don't know how much father back he can bend or step before he breaks. Lately he's been a little touchy, like he's on thin ice. I know it has something to do with his tool of a father.

It's been a while since I figured this stuff out. I guess I've been getting used to it, or it's been getting better. Either way, I feel a little relieved. I think Edd's a little happier, and I take this as a sign that my efforts are not needed. What "efforts" those are - I don't know. Maybe I feel like if I mentioned anything now, it would be too late already.

I guess we're all just learning to pretend everything's okay.

Still I get the feeling that Edd's waiting for me to say something or do something for him. I guess he's just going to have to keep waiting; either that, or learn to get between one of those rare smiles and ultimate emo depression.

I can't get this one night out of my head. It tells me more than all my stupid thoughts and deductions possibly could about the real reason things have been so weird with Double D lately.

It was a couple weeks ago, and they were sleeping over at my house after a relatively normal day. Edd and Ed were on the floor in sleeping bags and I was on my bed, just like always.

It wasn't quite midnight, and I wasn't quite asleep; it was more like that semi-conscious state where your thoughts don't make sense anymore, and that's why I figured I was dreaming when I heard some weird sounds coming from the floor.

We'd seen our share of weird sleeping moments (with Ed around, anyway), but something felt different this time. Double D had never acted like he did that night, freaking out for no reason. I didn't know him to have nightmares, at least not this severe. Once I'd woken up and realized what was going on, I turned to see him shaking like crazy, sitting up in his sleeping bag with his eyes wide open. Was it possible to sleep with your eyes open like that?

No explanation made sense. Whether he was awake or asleep, it wasn't like him - it wasn't even like him when he acted unlike himself - and that was the scary part.

I jumped out of bed and started shaking his shoulder, though with how hard he was already shivering he probably didn't even feel it. "Hey, Double D, wake up. Hey!" I spoke louder, seeing that he really wasn't snapping out of it. I shook him harder, and he just kept gasping, staring straight ahead, sitting up in his sleeping bag. His hand went in front of his mouth; his other hand was shaking like crazy, pointing in front of him.

Ed, meanwhile, was rubbing his eyes and processing the situation slowly.

"Eddy..." Double D's voice came out small and far away, and even in the dim light I could see that his face was pale as a sheet. Suddenly without warning, his hands latched onto my arm, his nails digging in. I tried to jerk away, but he was - get this - _too strong_. His fear seemed to grow by the second as I pried his hands off my arm before he cut off my circulation or something.

"Double D, stop it!" I cried. "What's wrong? Snap out of it already!"

I started shaking my arm, trying to make him let go. Eventually I decided to turn around in the direction he stared, expecting to see some hideous monster or a phantom of some kind. I knew Edd didn't believe in that kind of stuff, at least not enough to have nightmares about it like me or Ed would, but I was tired and scared enough to believe there was something otherworldly in my room, for real.

All I saw was the outline of my dressers and mirror, stuff on the floor, a sliver of moonlight crawling across the wall.

It was then that I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding, that my heart beat a little more quietly in my ears.

Ed was looking too, obviously as freaked out as I was. It didn't seem like Edd would wake up, go to sleep, or whatever was the opposite of his current condition.

"He's here..." he squeaked, drawing me closer, his grip tightening by the second. "Eddy - he - he's here..."

We were both shocked still when the light flicked on. I looked to see Ed with his finger on the light switch, breathing hard. When I turned back to face Edd, I saw his wide, terrified eyes begin to blink away their hallucination. He quickly let go of my arm and I grabbed it myself, wondering what could possibly have made him act like that.

Ed came and sat by his side, rubbing his back. "Who's here, Double D?" he asked.

Edd didn't answer, he just rubbed his face like he'd been crying and then stared silently at the floor.

"Hey," I whispered, patting his shoulder tentatively. "It was just a nightmare, so go back to sleep."

I told Ed to turn off the light, and just as the room went dark I saw an expression on Edd's face as he turned toward me, hands in front of him, that I had never seen before. I then waited a few moments (for what, I don't know) before getting up and heading back to bed. I wanted so bad to ask Edd who it was he saw, but I had a pretty good idea already. Something made me end the situation then and there and let it be.

Deep down inside, in a place that even I'm not allowed to know about, I wanted to go back and comfort Edd because I knew he was upset. The sounds of his gasping breaths and sniffles were unmistakable, and I hated myself as I drew my covers up to my chin and tried to pretend they weren't there.

As I lay in bed, I stayed awake and waited for Edd to say my name again and talk to me for once, telling me the truth so I could finally make my brain shut up. He didn't have to say anything, though, because I could hear him practically vibrating in his sleeping bag, and no matter how hard he was trying to conceal it, I could hear him sobbing.

Honestly, I don't know why I was suddenly so obsessive about Edd's home life. I guess that night was just one of many moments that gave me the hint something wasn't right. I wasn't a kid anymore; I knew what abuse was.

I wished I could be ignorant again, though. Even if I could convince myself that Sockhead could fix his own problems, a part of me knew that my excuses would run out someday, and then how would I avoid it?

Weird thing is, he was acting totally normal the next morning. When I finally asked him what had happened the night before, he acted like he had no idea what I was talking about.

Funny, but I think he was telling the truth and he really couldn't remember. Even so, I knew it had been real.

After all, I still had his claw marks on my arm.


	4. EDD 2

More Shootouts

**donttouchmykyoya818**: I'm glad you really :D lol I hope you keep reading and enjoying. (and keep reviewing)

**emako**: thanks! you rule, dude

**xxignoredxx**: thank you! your reviews are always thoughtful and welcome! please enjoy!

**BloodRaven800**: well, here's the update you asked for ^_^. I will make sure to give a happy ending... or at least my definition of one. :D

Chapter 4

"Hey! Double D!"

Like flipping on a light switch, I jerked my head up and quickly registered the sound of voices around me. Instinctively, I turned to where my name had come from and saw an unreadable expression on Eddy's face. His hands were posed apart; I slowly realized he'd clapped in front of my face to get my attention. I must have been pretty out of it.

"Hmm?" was my brilliant reply.

For a moment, I thought I detected a flash of concern in his sharp eyes. Neither of us called attention to it, but as he spoke it became unmistakable.

"What is up with you lately, Sockhead?" he asked, brow knit with frustration and worry.

I swallowed and looked forward at my food. School lunches may not have been my favorite, but it wasn't often that they made me feel this nauseated.

"You know, I mean, if there's something wrong, you can talk about it. I won't call you a sissy or anything."

I looked up momentarily to see a poor attempt at hiding worry with what I can only describe as a nonchalant expression.

Despite the fact that I wanted nothing more than to break down and spill it at that very moment, I only smiled (unconsciously; let it be known) and gave another innocent-sounding lie.

"That's quite all right, Eddy," I said, trying to lather my words with a tone that indicated his foolishness at thinking there was anything the matter at all. "I suppose I'm just distracted because of... studies. Finals are fast approaching, after all."

"By fast approaching do you mean four months from now?"

If it were possibly to sweat inwardly, I'd be doing it. My face warmed. "It's never too early to begin studying, Eddy," I retorted.

"Didn't look like you were studying to me."

The conversation seemed to end when I chose not to respond. Still, my heart constricted because I could feel that my charade was stretching further than it had ever meant to stretch. Why was it so hard for me to open up? Things hadn't always been this way, but I suppose my situation hadn't always been this dire. By now, I was practically waiting for my father to suspect something and finally do away with me.

Just as I was opening my mouth (though I'm not entirely sure what was going to come out of it), the bell rang to signal lunch's end. I hadn't touched a bite.

I assumed that Eddy had dropped the subject, but he asked a familiar question as we walked through the hall.

"Are you sure everything's okay, Sockhead?"

I shifted my shoulder bag and considered how to answer. At this point, was there any reason to pretend nothing was wrong at all? Perhaps I could use the test excuse again...

"It's just as I said; I'm over-exerting myself for the sake of my studies."

I could tell, even though he didn't say anything, that Eddy didn't buy my excuse. At least he stopped asking questions, though.

When we stopped at our lockers, I gave Ed a gentle nudge and smiled up at him, trying to let him know that things were okay. It bothered me how quiet he'd been and I couldn't help but wonder if he'd begun to piece things together since I'd started spending tear-filled nights at his house. I made him promise not to say anything about it; he probably had to stay silent or else he'd reveal my secret.

He smiled back, and I saw how tight his face really was. It gave me a pang of guilt, knowing I was causing unnecessary worry to my friends.

As we sat through shop class, I found myself zoning out almost immediately. The teacher's voice was an incomprehensible buzz and I probably wouldn't have reacted much if I unknowingly sawed off my own arm. This had been happening more and more over the past few weeks - months, even. I noticed my attention wavering especially during dull classes like this.

This time, all it took to bring me back was the whisper of a crinkled up paper whizzing past my head. I turned forcefully to see Eddy at the table next to mine, tapping his fingers (as if I'd buy that). Ed was beside him but didn't seem to have noticed. Why on Earth would Eddy mess with me right now, of all times?

I ignored him and returned to "work," rubbing a nearly smooth sheet of sandpaper against a block over and over. A bit therapeutic, actually.

I flinched and suppressed a full-fledged growl when the next piece of paper hit me directly on the temple. Still, I closed my eyes, took a breath, and pretended nothing was happening. This wouldn't be the first time Eddy had deliberately screwed with me when I was trying to concentrate, but somehow it was even more annoying when paying attention was on the bottom of my priority list. Furthermore, I thought that he was concerned about me, but apparently that had worn off.

Another one, this time a little smaller. I heard a collective giggle behind me and closed my eyes even tighter, considering throwing something back. When I peeked at the teacher, he didn't seem to be too enthralled with the scene before him.

Paper doesn't hurt. What made me so angry was the thought that Eddy, who had just seemed so sensitive about my emotional well-being, was purposely pushing my buttons.

I snuck a glance his way; he and Ed were looking bored, innocently enough. I was just about to settle back into my own state of apathy when a huge wad of paper hit the back side of my head. I jerked around, realizing it actually hadn't been Eddy all along. Good thing I didn't act on my frustration...

Naturally, I don't have a large group of friends. Students from the school paper and a couple of academic after-school events have taken to treating me like a human being, but all in all I'd say I have a pretty unfavorable relationship with most students at Peach Creek High. I suppose it's my own fault; I am anti-social, to say the least, and my friends and I have long since sealed our collective reputation as local outcasts. Still, it's difficult, nigh impossible, to get used to constant berating.

School was once a safe zone for me. It was the place I could go when home was too empty and unwelcoming, when I was tired of the smell of carpet cleaner and dish soap and wanted to smell old pages and chalk dust. It was the place that I once felt I belonged, where academia was in full swing; it was my world.

One blissful summer ended and I was eagerly thrust back into the routine, thoroughly excited to be a high school freshman at last. It didn't take very long for my enthusiasm to diminish; it only takes one or two passing remarks before the entire school is turned against you as an army. I'm only fortunate my friends and I weren't separated by the gnashing teeth and claws of cliquedom, but needless to say, high school still complicated things.

You may be wondering what that tangent has to do with my situation. Well, as you could probably imagine, bullies secure a spot in every one of my classes and shop is one of the worst.

I turned back to the front immediately upon seeing the satisfied grin on the face of one of my prime tormentors. I knew he'd sensed my anger and I'd just blown whatever mask of composure I could have possibly worn to fend him off.

I knew that I was a much more enjoyable target when emotionally fragile.

I continued sanding, though my palm was getting raw, as I was bombarded with crumpled up pieces of paper. Eventually, my anger dwindled into sad resignation. I saw that the teacher wasn't looking, but it was obvious he knew what was going on. My mind was screaming for him to act, though this was probably the tamest thing they'd done to me yet.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Eddy hiding his face as he flinched at each wad that was tossed his way. Ed was staring out the window, probably pretty far off.

My anger bubbled back up as I listened to the snickers and muffled laughter behind me. The teacher was reading a newspaper. Each piece of paper seemed to hit me harder until they became my father's hands, and the teacher became my mother, writing on sticky notes and pretending there was nothing out of the ordinary occurring while I screamed for her to help me.

To my dismay, I felt my throat tighten and tears well up. I tried to blink them away, but lowering my eyes only gave them an open pathway as they rolled down my blushing cheeks. I drew up my shoulders and pretended to focus hard on my sanding, but I could already feel myself shaking, growing weak from holding back my emotions. I was betraying the composure I'd worked so hard to perfect.

I could hear the chorus of "Awwwwwww! We made the baby cry!" after my first sniffle. I didn't have to look to know Eddy was staring at me, and Ed probably was too. I hid my face by moving it toward the desk, watching my tears fall on the rubbed-raw block of wood upon which my hands were now resting, trembling.

"Pathetic."

"Man, what a pussy."

"_I wish you weren't."_

"_I wish you weren't."_

"_I wish you weren't my son."_

SLAM!

I looked up to see the teacher, fuming. He was glaring over my shoulder, hands pressed firmly against the desktop.

"Boys!" he yelled. "Stop throwing that paper around and pick it up! This room looks like a pig sty!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When the school day finally ended, I was more than ready to walk home with my friends, though I knew there was no point in pretending shop class hadn't happened. I racked my brain for answers - or rather, excuses - for my behavior.

Not surprisingly, Eddy piped up just as we were leaving campus: "So... do you want to talk about it?"

I pulled my shoulder bag up and kicked a stone onto the grass. There wasn't much to say without giving away something incriminating.

"I don't know," I answered. "I think I must be over-exerting myself for these upcoming tests."

Eddy sighed and took a long pause, then mumbled, "That's a bunch of bull shit."

My insides stirred; how much had he figured out? I didn't realize Eddy was so intuitive or attentive; perhaps, though, my tactics were the real problems. I may have been acting more obvious than I thought. His answer was so blunt and true that I didn't know how to respond right away.

"How come you were crying, Double D?"

Ed's voice was full of sincerity. I wrung my hands; "I guess I just don't like getting treated like dirt," I admitted, forcing back a threatening blush.

To my surprise, this statement was enough to get me by. Eddy gave my arm a reassuring squeeze; the sweet gesture made me smile even though my heart was aching.

A wave of relief accompanied my dance around the truth. If they thought bullying was the only thing bringing me down, they might not begin to suspect Mother and Father.

Still, Eddy's concern did make me feel a bit guilty. As usual, I was torn between my entrapment at home and my desire to come clean with him and Ed.

"My mom says bullies are only mean because they're interpretive."

"Holy crap, you're stupid, Ed."

I bit my tongue, not wanting to laugh at Eddy's statement. However, a dose of his strange sense of blunt humor was like a breath of fresh air as my anxiety made an unpleasant mix with the spring heat.

"Yeah, but he's right, Sockhead," Eddy continued, looking my way. "They just make fun of us because they're jealous. It's nothing to get all worked up over, you know?"

I nodded. "Yes; I'm sorry... I suppose I let my emotions get the better of me."

Trying to apply his words to my father didn't work.

"It's okay, man," he mumbled, slurring the uncharacteristically comforting statement together. "Happens."

Ed broke the tension that was sure to rise by saying, "Hey, guys, do you want to come hang out at my house?"

I felt myself brighten up for real when I heard this. "Sure," Eddy replied, and I agreed as well but had to downplay my immense joy at knowing I didn't have to go home right away.

The heartache and tension that had permeated my day gradually disappeared as we relaxed in Ed's room, watching B-movies and laughing at whatever could possibly make someone laugh. Sitting on Ed's bed during the day felt surreal somehow. While I had the opportunity, I retreated to my "happy place," if I may use Ed's expression. This was the life I had away from the abuse and fear; my pretend life. I could only hope it would never completely blend with my supposedly secret issues, though over the past several months it had been making the effort more and more.

Those few moments of solace ended too quickly. After only an hour or so, I realized Eddy was sitting beside me on the floor. Ed was glued to the television screen. He seemed to fidget a little before asking a familiar question: "Are you sure everything's okay?" I was a bit taken aback at his accusatory tone.

I cracked my knuckles nervously, but Eddy didn't call attention to the habit that I knew he hated. I inspected my worn, chewed fingernails next.

When it came to my mind that I was only making myself more obvious by stalling, I answered him. "I don't know. I don't really want to talk about it."

He wasn't satisfied, of course. "Come on, Double D, I know something's bothering you. You've been acting really weird."

"Weird how?"

"Don't play dumb, Sockhead. You space out all the time, you act all depressed, you barely ever talk... I mean, at first it was nice to get a break from your nagging-" I rolled my eyes "-but now I'm getting kind of worried."

Eddy's admission resonated with me immediately. It was rare for him to worry about one of us, let alone to come out and vocalize it. From my position on the bed, I glanced down at him. He looked a little nervous as he stared ahead, avoiding eye contact.

"There's nothing to worry about," I lied.

"Well then, can you at least tell me why you've been acting like that?"

I was just about to blame school when Eddy added, "And no BS this time."

I pushed my fingers backwards and forwards, but they wouldn't crack. I was chewing on my confession, the words I was afraid to say about how I felt all alone in the world and that my life was dangling over a precipice and I needed somebody to hold me and tell me I wasn't worthless but instead: "Nothing."

To my surprise - though I suppose I shouldn't have been too surprised - Eddy stood and threw up his hands in resignation. "Fine," he said rather loudly. "Fine! Have it your way, Double D. Because you know what? I'm SICK of this SHIT! Here I am trying to help you and it's obvious you don't want it. So I guess you're never going to tell me what's really wrong with you, then. Whatever."

I opened my mouth to speak, but only a tiny squeak of protest emerged before Eddy shouted, "You're on your own, Double D! Just like you wanted!"

Eddy climbed out the window, kicking a stack of random paraphernalia over on his way out. Ed looked confused and hurt by Eddy's anger, but I knew he wasn't the one to blame. My simple repetition of the word "nothing" must have taken its toll on his patience, or what little he had in the first place.

"Double D?" Ed questioned, twisting himself around to give me a puzzled look.

I sighed and lowered my head onto my knees. What was the point of pushing away one of my best friends? Was I protecting myself or my pride?

Ed walked over and sat beside me, hugging me and saying, "It's okay, Double D. Eddy always gets mad."

I leaned my head against him and tried to make sense of our argument. How much longer could I pretend nothing was wrong? How many more times would he ask me before I gave up and told? Was it possible for me to be truthful at all?

Even Ed's comforting gesture wasn't enough to make me feel better. Still, I hugged him back and assured him everything was fine before heading home begrudgingly.

Somehow, not knowing if my father would be there was even scarier than expecting him. I wished I knew his schedule so I could be ready rather than constantly fearing the unknown. I wished I didn't have to let go of my temporary sanctuary with my friends; my temporary haven. I felt a strong sense of loneliness as I trudged home through the pleasant spring evening, leaving it behind.

He wasn't waiting for me when I got home, but my mother came in only a few hours after I did and really let me have it for not doing my daily chores. I told her I'd been working on them since I got home (which was the truth, though I didn't include the part about spending an hour or two with friends.) She seemed to take this as an ultimate insult and slapped me across the face. I wasn't too fazed.

I hurried to finish my duties before Father came back, but I knew that starting them even a little late meant that a done job was only to be considered "half-assed." No matter what I did, I was already in trouble.

I accepted defeat.

When my father got home, he seemed to know without any words or observation that I had screwed up. He grabbed my shoulder as I leaned over the sink and brought his face uncomfortably close to mine, hissing at me, bringing my tears out as skillfully as a hypnotist.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you, you insolent little shit!"

The back of his hand collided with my face and sent me reeling to the side. I tried to block my face with my arms, but he yanked them out of the way and slapped me again. I slammed against the countertop, praying it would be over soon.

"Are you crying?" he asked in a bitter tone. "Oh, for crying out loud! STOP IT!"

I covered my tear-stained face and sobbed, somehow hoping the display would gain enough pity for him to leave me alone. Just as I was beginning to suspect it had worked, he yanked me to the side and shook me, screaming at me, returning to our old routine. I lost interest in crying and chose apathy. I pretended I was with Eddy and Ed again, that I was asleep, that I was dreaming and when I woke up I would laugh at myself for having such a foolish fantasy.

All I really wanted was to avoid the effects of his harsh words. I hated the fact that I let someone so demented get to me on a deep level. All my attempts at tuning him out were to no avail, however, when he got like this.

I found myself cowering as he backhanded me, something he didn't do very often. If he hit me at just the right angle, after all, he could leave evidence. I knew he didn't want that.

Finally he slammed me against the door by my wrist and got close to me again, growling, "I thought I raised you better than this, Eddward. You are a worthless, ungrateful, insolent, spoiled little faggot!"

I agreed.

My head was splitting as I crawled out the window that night. Getting slapped like that really gave me a headache.

It was after ten o'clock when I padded barefoot across the dark street, letting the cool night air soothe me briefly. I crawled through Ed's window and jumped into his bed like it was my own. He was awake, still watching movies. I pulled the blankets up to my chin, proud of myself for not crying this time when he hugged me and petted my head with his big, gentle hand.

"Were you scared?" he asked.

I nodded, then said, "I just don't want to be alone."

"Who are you scared of?"

His question struck a chord. I whispered, "Him." It was the same answer I'd given him the first night, but this time it was empty of meaning. Ed had asked, "Who" and not "What."

"Who's 'him,' Double D?"

I shook my head. "Please, Ed, no more questions. I don't want to talk about it." Oh no... I'd been hoping I could break my personal record and go a night without tears, but they'd won the fight yet again.

Ed seemed reluctant to stop this time, but he did. I was grateful and disappointed at the same time. How could I blame my friends for giving up when I was basically begging them to do so?

Fortunately my mind gave me a rare and well-needed respite that night. I had to keep my eyes from rolling back in my head as I drifted in and out of consciousness as Ed pointed out his favorite parts of the movie to me.

I wrapped my arms around his waist and nuzzled my face against his ribs. He smelled like cotton, sweat, and old food. He draped an arm around me and pulled the blanket up over my shoulder. I felt swaddled and safe.

Please don't make me go back there. Please just let me fall asleep here and never wake up.


	5. EDDY 2

Even More Shootoots

**BloodRaven800:** Thanks for your feedback! I myself am a sucker for a happy ending, but there are most definitely exceptions.

**xxignoredxx:** AWW! You makes me blush!

**emako:** Sanku! ^

**donttouchmykyoya818:** Sorry, this fic isn't necessarily yaoi or slash or whatever word you prefer (there's a plethora.) It can be slash if you so wish! Just put on your slash goggles! I think I already replied to this and told you the names of Ed's movies, and now I forget. But they involved zombies. BTW, I won't touch your Kyoya, but can I touch your Kaoru?

**Kate: **Thanks for reviewing! You has the same name as my auntie :D

**Dani Dreadful: **Ah, yes, that first leap into a wonderful new fandom. I hope you keep reading EEnE fics, because there are some real gems out there! Thanks for reviewing my story, keep it up plz!

Chapter 5

I woke up Friday morning just half as angry as I had been the night before. A good night's sleep would normally make me feel better, but as I went through my morning routine I felt tired and listless.

That morning's shower was longer than normal; I found myself standing there rubbing Axe the same spot on my chest for at least five minutes, lost in thought. Whatever had kept me from a restful night was now weighing on my mind, making my heart beat strangely like I'd seen an omen in the sky.

When I looked out the window, I saw that the sky actually was pretty cloudy. There were supposed to be spring showers all week long, and the ominous clouds above confirmed it. Seeing this weather wouldn't usually give me the feeling it did that day; I felt a wave of dread wash over me like something was about to happen.

My eyes trailed from the gray sky to Edd's lonely house. I didn't see anything out of the ordinary and quickly turned away, hoping the feeling would disappear with the image.

It didn't.

I guess I was quieter than normal that morning, because my mom was giving me a funny look. I found myself relying on Edd's old school excuse when she asked me if there was anything wrong. The last thing I wanted to do was walk into the gloomy day, but I rushed out the door to avoid any more confrontation; something told me the threatening stir inside me had everything to do with him.

A few minutes later, Ed and I were standing outside his house. Neither of us spoke very much, though I wanted to ask him if he felt the strange feeling as well.

"Man, where _is_ he?" I mumbled, glancing at my watch. He met us outside his house at 7:30 every morning, and it was already a quarter to eight. If my stomach wasn't doing flips because of that stupid "bad feeling," I would have left after thirty seconds. Something kept me there, kept my feet planted on the dewed grass, waiting to see him walk out the door just to make sure he was still alive.

Finally, it was time to leave without him. Another minute of waiting and we'd be late. I would have gone inside to look for him if my legs hadn't been completely stiff.

I managed to shake my fear throughout the morning, figuring Edd was probably just feeling sick. He's only human, after all. It was a little weird that he didn't call one of us and tell us he'd be missing school, but that was probably because he suddenly came down with something early in the morning and didn't want to disturb us. Yeah.

Maybe it was for the best he wasn't there anyway. I wasn't sure what I'd say to him when I did see him; hopefully things wouldn't be weird between us for long. It wasn't the first time we'd ever fought, but I think it was the closest we'd come to directly talking about his home life, and this whole situation was definitely the most serious problem we'd encountered. After last night, it was clearer than ever that keeping secrets was no longer an option. While the teacher talked about US government, I mentally role-played the conversation I was determined to have with Double D.

Still, I couldn't entirely shake the feeling that something was coming. I felt like I was on train tracks with my eyes and ears covered up, knowing one would come eventually but not knowing when.

"Edward! Pay attention please!

I looked up to see the teacher scowling at me. Giggles traveled across the room as I sank in my seat. Once the lesson seemed to be continuing normally, I drifted away again, wondering how I could get Edd alone for a private conversation without making him uncomfortable. I planned on going straight to his house after school, maybe letting him sleep over at my place for the weekend and give him a break from that place. After looking at it that morning, I saw, even from the outside, how empty it looked. Made me wonder if Edd was there at all.

"Where's the other dork?"

My spine stiffened, but I refused to turn around at Kevin's comment. The day was slowing to a crawl; it was lunch time and I felt like I should be home asleep. The last thing I needed was to deal with some of his bull shit.

"Hey!"

I gripped my lunch tray and walked off, leaving Ed alone at the end of the line. Eating was less important than getting away from that bastard.

He grabbed my shoulder and yanked me around to face him. Over the past couple of years, Kevin had become less of a frequent annoyance and more of a constant bully. It was practically his fault the school was against us, and out of everyone, he was the most ruthless because he knew which buttons to push.

"Don't walk away while I'm talking to you, _Eddy_," he spat. "Didn't your little boyfriend teach you your manners?"

"Shut up, ass hat," I shouted, pushing him away. Edd's method of ignoring the prick until he got bored had never really worked for me.

Before I even had time to think, the routine began once again. Kevin shouted insults at me over the crowd's encouraging chant: "Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!"

I figured the best thing to do was break through the innocent bystanders and avoid a detention, but Kevin wouldn't allow that.

"You think you've got big balls, don't you?" He shoved me and then gripped my collar while I pounded him with my fists, barely landing a blow out of my blind fury. Man, I hate that guy.

"You're nothing up a pathetic little twerp and that's all you'll ever be." He brought me closer to his face, much to my disdain. "You'd better start showing me some respect before I have to teach you and your little butt-buddies a lesson."

As usual, he threw me backwards and I fell on the floor, too angry to come up with any coherent or clever comeback and too much of a pathetic dork to hit him back.

A lunch attendant broke through the crowd and gave us both an hour of detention. All I could think was that I'd have to wait yet another hour (an hour which I'd be spending in a quiet room with KEVIN) before seeing Double D.

Seething, I kicked my way back to the line, feeling like I was right where I'd started and nothing had been accomplished other than my ominous feeling being replaced by rage.

That day, the cafeteria food looked less appetizing than ever. I ate a few bites before pushing my tray away, no longer hungry.

As I watched Ed devour his food, I took the opportunity to ask him as quickly and subtle as possible: "Do you think there's something going on with Double D?"

To my surprise, he froze and slowly looked up at me, spaghetti sauce splattered all over his cheek. "Hmm?" I'd expected him to shrug and keep eating, but it seemed like I'd startled him.

"Wall, I fnk hemibe hav..."

I cringed. "SWALLOW FIRST!"

Ed nodded and finished eating before saying, with an uncharacteristically serious tone, "Double D's really sad."

The answer made my heart sink momentarily. So Ed had noticed too... "What do you mean?"

"I just think he's really sad all the time. I don't know why, he won't tell me."

A part of me wasn't too surprised Edd had picked up on Double D's weird behavior, but I was still hungry for answers or at least common ground. Would Ed agree that we were looking at something pretty serious, like abuse? It was hard enough for me to understand the real weight of what Edd could be going through, and I hated to admit it but that probably meant Ed wouldn't get it either.

"Yeah, me neither," was all I could think to say. "He won't tell me either."

For a while, we sat silently. Ed was fidgeting, almost like he wanted to say something.

"Are you sure Sockhead hasn't said anything to you?" I asked suspiciously.

He thought for a moment, then nodded. I caught him starting to talk, then stopping himself. As the lunch bell rang, I wondered if he knew something I didn't about Edd's situation.

Throughout the day, I hardly retained a speck of information from the classes. All I could think about was Edd and why I might be thinking about him so much. Outside the window I could already see raindrops falling intermittently, accompanied by distant thunder. It was so dark outside you'd swear it was 7:00 at night, not mid-afternoon.

It was going to be a long day.

When 3:20 finally arrived, I had almost forgotten about detention. The thought crossed my mind to run home and skip it, but I saw one of my teachers beckoning me toward the door and knew I couldn't get out of it. With a heavy sigh, I entered the room and sat as far away from Kevin as possible.

We were the only two there that afternoon. A teacher sat behind the desk, but it didn't take long for him to take a cell phone call outside the room and leave us together. I had about nine seconds of peace before Kevin tossed a paper wad at my head.

Immediately, I remembered Edd crying in shop class. I smacked another wad of paper away from my face and kicked the previous one across the floor. Kevin snickered and scooted his desk closer to me, then craned his neck to see out the door before getting up and sitting directly beside me.

"So, you never answered my question earlier," he said. "Where's Double Dweeb?"

"I don't know," I shot back, turning to look out the window so his face wouldn't heighten my anger.

"You sure you don't know?"

For a moment, I wondered if he also knew something I didn't, but realized he was only trying to egg me on.

"Why do you want to know anyway?" I asked.

"Maybe I miss him," he said, getting even closer to me. "I was kinda hoping to make him cry again." He laughed at the memory of pushing a defenseless person over the edge. "He's so easy, you know?"

I clenched a fist and gritted my teeth, watching the rain pound against the window pane. "If you're trying to make me mad, you can forget it," I barked. "You might as well just leave me alone."

He grabbed a fistful of my hair. "But you're easy too," he snickered. I sighed angrily as he pushed my head to the side and sat back on the chair, probably thinking of some other way to get me riled up. I knew that all he wanted was to see me go crazy just so he could prove once again how much stronger he was than me and destroy my self-esteem. Only a total freak gets his jollies that way.

"You know, I think I'm really getting through to Double D," he said, making me knit my brow with confusion. "He looks like he's ready to snap any minute."

I growled. "It's none of your business," was my brilliant reply, spoken so quietly I doubt he heard me anyway.

"Yep," Kevin continued, leaning back. "Maybe he'll do us all a favor and blow his brains out."

Maybe it was the wording, maybe the thought that Edd really had been thinking of something like that all along, maybe it was the build-up of such a shitty day, maybe it was the mental picture of Kevin's words come to life, or maybe it was nothing but my own anger at myself that made me land a shattering yet unsatisfying blow to Kevin's smug face. He toppled over, desk and all, and I kicked him a few times before he tripped me by the ankle and starting landing punches himself.

Fortunately for me, the teacher burst through the door before Kevin could do more damage than I'd done. I was a little shocked to see how much blood was leaking between his fingers as he covered his nose with one hand and beat me with the other.

"What on Earth is going on here?" the teacher shouted. We both started speaking at once, Kevin still covering his face and me sobbing uncontrollably.

I have detention for a month. On any day but today, I would have easily said it was worth it.

I walked home without an umbrella, letting the rain soothe my sore face and hoping it would erase all evidence of my tears. Now I'd never live this down, and I hadn't hurt Kevin enough for him to fear me and stay away. What would happen when I got to school on Monday? What would happen to Edd? I felt like I'd dragged him into something simply because Kevin had obviously realized he could use him against me.

Just like I'd planned, I went straight to Edd's house. The door was unlocked, so I rushed inside and up the stairs to his room, praying I wouldn't find something that justified my day of worry and fear.

As I walked up the stairs, I realized what a mess I must have been, soaking and bruised. I knew that even the rain couldn't hide the fact that I'd been crying, and at the moment the last thing on my mind was how weird it would look for me to barge in on him like this.

Still, I slammed open the door without stopping or knocking. What I found made me freeze in my tracks.

Edd was alive, which filled me with relief before I could register that he was praying. He stopped as soon as I arrived, but I knew that's what he'd been doing. I had seen him, just for a split second before he got startled, sitting on his knees, crying, hands folded before his face. I'd never seen him do it before, and even though it was better than suicide, it left me with a strange unsettling feeling.

He crawled off of his bed and walked timidly around it, scrutinizing my face. I furrowed my brow, noticing how red and swollen his cheek was. On that same side, he had a black eye and a busted lip. He looked like he'd been hit by a shovel, and his concerned expression told me I didn't look much better.

"Hey, Double D," I said breathlessly. "Um... h-hey."

He ignored my idiotic attempt at easing the awkward entrance. "What happened to you?"

Before I knew it, he was turning my face from side to side, gently, brushing the raindrops from my skin.

"You should see the other guy," I joked. To my surprise, he ducked his head back in confusion and then laughed. It was the first time I'd seen him laugh in a long time.

"Come on, Eddy, let's get you cleaned up," he said, placing a hand on my back and leading me through the hallway.

"What happened to you?" I asked. He ignored my question.

"Why weren't you at school?"

He paused momentarily, then said, "I didn't think it would be wise to go looking like this. People would ask questions."

"They should," I replied.

At the bathroom door, he stopped again and nodded at me. Although I was still a couple of inches shorter than Edd, he looked particularly small at that moment. "It's okay," he said softly. "Don't worry about me."

His tone told me this part of the conversation was over... at least for the moment. He sat me down on a stool and dried off my face, then started dabbing around my eye with something that stung from his First Aid Kit. On his bruised face was a maternal look of concern and care. Every once in a while, he picked up a dry rag and wiped away the now warm water that kept dripping from my soaking hair. He was quiet the whole time, and wouldn't let me lift a finger.


	6. EDD 3

**Hey Reviewers!** I'm too lazy to do individual shoutouts. WOOT But thank you all so fricking much for being awesome and reviewing this story! You make me want to write more! Just a couple of quick notes: Rating changed to M for some language and suggestion of sexual abuse. Now that I have free range, it might get a little more M-rated, so 'scuse me. Anyway, enjoy!

**A Note to Kaouse: **Get a log in! lol jk. But srsly. A scooper special thanks to you because you helped me come up with an idea for this chapter by asking what Ed was doing after school… which you're about to find out anyway. WOOTkudos. And to answer your question about where he was during the fight… you meant the one in his room, right? Well, he was there, just too engrossed in the TV and too put off by the tension to butt in. He knows what's good fer 'im. If you meant the one at school, he was holding Eddy's place in line, probably thinking it wouldn't be such a good idea to follow him when he got mad at Kevin. *takes deep breath* and if you meant the one during detention, Ed wasn't there because he's awesome. Thanks again, everyone, and I hope you enjoy this next chapter! Ed's second spotlight is coming up in a few! Truth is, this is mainly about Edd and Eddy. Soweez.

Chapter 6

I hopped quietly through my bedroom window, careful not to make a sound although no one would hear it if I did.

I'd left Ed asleep once again, this time pretty early. It was at least five o'clock when I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep. Somehow, running across the street when the sun was just thinking of rising made me feel excited and safe. My parents' cars were gone, so I looked forward to a couple hours of solitude after the horrors of last night.

My room felt cold and stuffy, even with the window open to the fresh morning air. I headed to the bathroom, where I stood before the mirror and stared at myself for a long while to inspect the damage.

My eye was puffy and bruised; I winced when I touched it with my fingers. I poked my tongue out to touch the gash on my lip. It stung and tasted like salt. The right side of my face looked like it had just been smacked, even though it'd been an entire night since it was. Yesterday must have been a rough day for my father; otherwise he wouldn't have done so much blatant damage over a trivial issue like neglected chores.

Even more nagging than bruises was the fear that gripped my heart. What would happen if a teacher pulled me aside today and asked about my face? I knew I would have to lie, and lying is not my strong suit.

Dishonesty was easier a long time ago, back when "little white lies" were acceptable because they kept my parents from prison. Now I knew the truth was on the table, and that terrified me even more than facing Father again. I felt that there was no way I could file a report without him finding out on time to punish me; I knew he was capable of making me regret it.

After a refreshing shower, I'd come to the conclusion that laying out was the best option. Not only would it protect me from prying eyes, but it would give me the chance to rest for a while. My parents were rarely home on Fridays or weekends, and my face may have been exposed as injured but it wasn't the only part of me that hurt. Even the steaming water hadn't soothed all my sore muscles and I found myself limping as I walked back through the hall.

It was only 5:40 AM. I sat on my bed, feeling wide awake but wishing I could sleep. Just a moment of true rest was all I needed. It had been a long time since I slept through the night, and even on those rare occasions I would often wake up feeling restless like I'd had a nightmare. I knew I had them sometimes because the memories would return to me throughout the day, giving me vague pictures of my subconscious attempts at making sense of him.

There have been times that I've woken myself up by talking, begging my father to stop whatever he'd been doing to me in my sleep, most likely a surreal twist on one of his usual ventures. The only time I feel safe enough to sleep is when I'm with Ed, but even his sanctuary is beginning to shed its allure as my father manages to find me there each night, plaguing my mind and dreams.

Though I didn't feel like I could sleep, I crawled beneath the covers and closed my eyes. If anything, I could rest my aching body. I prefer to sleep on my left side, but this time I turned over and pressed my tender face against the pillow. My hand rested on the cool fabric before me, trembling.

Outside my window, I could hear birds chirping and a train going by in the distance. Around these noises, the air was deafeningly silent. As my head swam, I slowly drifted off to sleep, wondering when days like this would ever stop flooring me.

It was about half past twelve when I finally woke up.

It took me a few moments to register the sound of activity downstairs. My heart leaped with anticipation; the first thought that came to mind was that we had an intruder but soon I recognized the sound of my parents' voices.

Somehow, this thought was even more unnerving. How would they react if they knew I'd stayed home today? I was hardly allowed to skip school when I was ill, let alone for a battered face. Knowing that my father wouldn't have wanted me to go out looking like this anyway didn't comfort me at all. Laying out would be an unforgivable crime and the perfect opportunity for him to add a few marks to my flesh.

For a while, I confusedly thought that I'd be safe up here as long as they didn't open my bedroom door. I breathed a short-lived sigh of relief.

The footsteps that should have gone by my door stopped short, and within moments my father was pinning me to my bed, straining with rage.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see my mother leaning against the doorway, looking blank and defeated. Only someone who knew her like I did could see the fear and weakness behind her stern façade. Soon she'd disappeared, leaving me to bear the brunt of my father's fury.

I was still confused, still waking up. How had this happened...?

My father's face was dangerously close to my own. "Got a call from your principal," he said. "Why. The FUCK aren't you at school?"

Without waiting for an answer, he retreated to the normal routine. I struggled, as usual, to no avail. I knew it wouldn't work. I always knew. I just wanted to tell myself I'd tried.

He yanked me over and I pressed my face into my pillow as he unbuckled his belt. I'd hoped to hide my face, but he jerked it up and pressed his hand against my mouth. I let out a muffled cry as my wounded lip was smashed against my teeth.

His other rough hand gripped my arm as he thrusted into me. I screamed into his hand and waited for it to be over, waited for it to end then start again another day over something else.

He never gave me a chance to explain myself. Not this time and not any time before.

Once he'd finished, he simply walked away. Probably late for some meeting he and mother were needed at. I wondered how he showed his face in public after hurting me that way. I suppose I had to do the same thing, though; hide the pain behind whatever emotion is most convenient at the time and move on.

Once alone, I listened to my parents screaming at each other. I heard my mother calling him a sick fuck, telling him she was tired of dealing with this. I heard a loud thud and more yelling. Words like "freak" and "faggot" rolled through the walls, invaded my throbbing ears.

She stopped at my doorway briefly and I quickly yanked my pants back up, forgetting I hadn't moved since he got off of me. She didn't say anything. She just growled.

They were gone.

It was just another one of those days. Just another bruise no one would ever see but that I'd always feel. Just another night I would flee to Ed's house and sleep beside him, slowly getting used to it until it was no longer a shelter and became another place I wasn't safe from my life.

Just another place I wasn't safe from him.

I read to take my mind off of my problems. It did work at first, but soon I took to looking at the clock. School would be letting out soon, and a big part of me wished my friends would show up to see what had become of me. Even my shame couldn't override my need for attention today. The solitude in which I normally reveled was suddenly too lonesome. Most of all, I wanted to continue my conversation with Eddy. I knew for sure after last night that he had figured me out, and I shouldn't have been so surprised; he'd been asking questions, going out of his way to be nice sometimes. There was something about his quick temper that reminded me of my mother, almost humanizing her and making me feel like I had family outside the walls of this place.

I didn't blink as I stared at my wall clock. I was picturing my friends leaving school, picturing their every step. I estimated a nine minute walk home, and when I didn't hear a knock at the door I added some locker time for good measure.

Finally, I moved to the window and watched the street. The sky was a dark, threatening gray, and raindrops were drumming against the window pane. For a while, I was content to close my eyes and listen to the soothing sound of the rain and thunder beating far away.

When I opened my eyes again, I jumped with surprise. Below me was Ed, standing at my doorstep holding his backpack over his head. My heart tightened when I saw that he was alone, but my wish had come true nonetheless. Much of the depression I'd just been feeling was lifted as I hurried down the stairs to welcome him.

He looked just as surprised to see me as I had been to see him. "Hello, Ed," I said with a smile after opening to door. He just stared at me, looking a little hunched over.

"Don't you want to come in out of the rain?"

Ed blinked as if returning to reality, then nodded and shuffled past me.

"Look at you," I said, rubbing his back. "You're soaked to the bone!"

He shuddered, pulling his jacket tighter around him. "I'm okay," he said. "Um, Double D? …Where were you today?"

We walked to the couch and sat down. I tried to stall my answer by offering him tea, hot cocoa, a snack, water… he didn't want anything but the truth. I could see his eyes swimming with worry and confusion, making it even harder to lie.

"I just didn't feel too well," I said weakly. Partially true.

His hands were hiding in his sleeves, keeping warm. He stared at them while he asked, "Was it him?"

"Him?" My breath caught in my throat as I cracked my knuckles, feeling cornered.

Ed turned to face me, his eyes begging me to clarify. "Who is he, Double D? Did he do that to your face?"

Suddenly I remembered that I looked a fright. I pressed my hands against my face slowly, as if that would do a thing to hide the bruises. My lip stung and throbbed; the wound had been reopened by my father. It felt strange to have Ed here, or _anyone_ here, after what had just happened. I felt like an entire day had gone by since then, because my father was once filed away in a separate existence from what I cared about. Today, that relationship seemed to be maintained, giving me a hint of safety despite the humiliation I'd just been dealt.

I still hadn't answered his question. I felt like the English language had escaped my memory somehow. Eventually, Ed was forced to ask again, this time sounding more desperate.

"Double D, what's going on? Why do you always come to my house? Is something wrong? You always tell me when there's something wrong, now tell me! Who's him?"

"Ow, ow…" I shakily wiped away a tear that had found its way to my lip. Ed reached out to wipe away the other one, but I got to it first. There was no point trying to get out of it. There was no point in pretending I could lie to him and solve everything.

I sniffled hard, then let out a weak sob. "Ed, I'm sorry. I don't know what to do anymore… I don't know what to tell you."

"Just tell me who keeps hurting you. And tell me what's going on with you and Eddy. Are you going to stop being friends?"

I covered my face. Was that the impression we gave off? I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised that Ed could feel the tension between us, but how far was this escalating without my knowledge? Suddenly I realized how distracted from reality I'd been by my efforts to lie and pretend. Ashamed, I blurted out: "It's my father… he's the one I'm afraid of. He's just… I don't know why, but he's home all the time now and every time he sees me, he gets angry…"

I had to stop. I felt relieved of my weight enough not to give details. "I just feel better when I'm with you," I told him. "I can't sleep otherwise."

A crack of thunder interrupted my spiel. Ed flinched and said, "Well, I didn't mean you can't come over anymore. I like it when you come over."

I smiled. "I know."

"I just wanted to come over and check on you. 'Cause I'm worried, Double D. You're not the same anymore."

I blinked away another fresh tear. "What do you mean?"

"Everything's different now," he explained slowly, seeming to search for the right words. "We used to always have fun, but then you got sad. Now there's always fighting and you've got bruises and I never know what to do…"

Seeing Ed cry seemed to erase my perception of myself. I jumped into mom-mode and took him in my arms, stroking his damp hair. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I never meant for things to get like this. I never thought things would get like that at home."

"My dad used to hit me too," Ed said through my shirt. "When I was little, he used to hit me sometimes. But then he stopped."

I used to think everyone's parents hit them. I used to think it was normal for home to mean neglect and abuse. I thought no one's parents were kind and loving until I met Eddy's and even Ed's. "My father never stopped," I said. "He never does stop."

We both flinched when the phone rang.

I answered it timidly, hoping it wouldn't be my father's voice somehow. "Hello?"

Suddenly I could feel the tension leave my muscles. "Oh, hello, Mrs. Laramie." Behind me on the couch, Ed seemed to relax as well. I suppose our conversation was heavier than normal.

I handed the phone to him and he talked to his mother for a few moments, then handed it back.

"I have to go home now," he said. "My mom wanted me to babysit Sarah tonight and she has to lecture me first."

I let out a small laugh. "Well, that's too bad."

I followed him to the door, and he suddenly turned around to face me. "Double D, you should tell somebody."

I shouted, "No!" before he could even finish the last word. His eyes went wide momentarily at my outburst, and I leaned toward him and lowered my voice as if we were being watched. "This has to stay a secret," I said. "Please, Ed. Please. If you really care about me, you won't tell anyone."

When he didn't say anything, I continued. "You have to promise me, Ed."

He didn't promise, but I felt secure nonetheless. "You know, sometimes when I have a problem, I tell God about it and then I feel better. My mom said that's a good thing to do."

I smiled and sighed a little. Religion wasn't a common subject for me, not even among friends. I didn't see myself as a very prayerful person, though I shied away from blaming God for my father's behavior. If there was anyone to blame it was the man himself; however, I recognized a hint of bitterness inside me at Ed's statement. I didn't feel that praying could solve anything at all, or else this problem would be easier to fix. "I'll try," I heard myself say.

Ed hugged me awkwardly. "Come back to my house tonight if you're scared, okay?"

I waved at his back as he ran home through the rain and thunder.

Once I was alone again, the house seemed to tower over me. I stood in front of the door for a while, just staring at the white paint. I had just revealed my secret to Ed, and the realization took a few moments to take effect. My stomach twisted itself into knots as I crept upstairs, feeling as if a ghost were following me.

Upstairs, I tore the sheets off my bed and threw them on the floor, unsure of what emotion was appropriate. Somehow I felt that I'd betrayed myself by telling Ed about my father. I felt like I'd destroyed the secret I'd worked years to perfect, though that was the wrong move in the first place.

I crawled onto my bed and groaned when I saw that the blood had soaked through onto my mattress pad. When I pulled this off, I saw that there was a dull stain on my mattress as well.

Somehow, this greatly upset me. From now on, I would be sleeping on my own blood. I could never get that stain out completely. I suppose it reminded me that there was a layer of filth beneath my own skin, so embedded that no amount of soap could wash it away. There was a thick coating of grime on my bones, running through my blood, pumping through my heart.

I wiped away some more tears and turned the other way, to face the foot of my bed. With my mattress pad folded over my feet, I got on my knees and positioned myself for prayer. It felt strange and unfamiliar, and I was actually quite nervous. I felt too impure and unfaithful to go before God; my churchgoing experiences had never really left an impact on me and were simply the result of my friends' parents insisting I join them.

"Um… God?" I frowned, feeling foolish. "I – I really need You. I need help right now. My life is falling apart. I can't lie anymore… just please help me. Um… make me a better person… make me stronger…" I could feel the teardrops hitting my knees as I lowered my head even further. "God, please… if You're out there, please listen. I don't know who else to turn to. I don't know what to do. I don't know how it got like this, but I just want things to get better… I'm scared, I'm just scared…"

I yelped when the door slammed open. To my utter shock, I saw a very battered Eddy standing there, breathing heavily. I quickly pretended I hadn't just been doing what I'd been doing. Eddy stumbled out, "Hey, Double D." I walked toward him, and he shifted his feet, saying, "Um… hey."

_Eddy_…

I gently took his face in my hands, looking down slightly into his eyes. He looked almost as bad as me, with a bruised eye and a gash beside it. Not only that, but his face was flushed and he was panting hard. "What happened to you?" I asked, getting nervous.

He shook his head and smirked, trying to shake off my hands. "You should see the other guy."

I laughed at his comment, relieving much of the tension inside me. Eddy always managed to make me feel better by saying something like that, something that reminded me so much of who he was and why I cared for him. Even on my worst days, he could make me smile for real.

I turned him around and started walking him through the hall, hoping he hadn't noticed what a mess my room was. "Come on, Eddy, let's get you cleaned up."

"What happened to you?"

I pretended I didn't hear his question. I wasn't ready for another confession, and my top priority was making sure he was okay. From beside me, I could see his legs shaking.

"Why weren't you at school?" he asked, this time more forcefully. I paused for a moment and conceded, saying, "I didn't think it would be wise to go looking like this." I swallowed. "People would ask questions."

Eddy's reply made my heart contract. "They should."

When we got to the bathroom, I found it difficult to go inside. There were mirrors in there, and my face felt warm and puffy from all the crying. We faced each other, and I found myself nodding. I agreed completely; they should be asking questions. I should let them, at least. "It's okay," I managed, hoping to shift the attention away from me again. "Don't worry about me."

I was grateful for the silence that followed. I dried the rain from Eddy's face and hair while he sat still, looking deep in thought; as I disinfected the gash beside his eye I drifted off into my mind as well. I couldn't put my finger on why he would be so desperate to see me today.

Once first aid was over, the air was cleared for the questions with which he was sure to bombard me. However, he simply said, "Look, Sockhead, whatever you're going through, I can help."

I knelt in front of him, feeling my legs begging me for rest. "There's nothing anyone can do about it."

His anger flared up right on cue. "Don't be stupid, Double D! Look, you can just pick up the phone and call child services or something. Can't you see, it'd be easy!"

"No, it wouldn't!" I rubbed my forehead, looking down at the linoleum to avoid his eyes. "Eddy, you don't understand. An investigation would take a long time, longer than you think… My father would kill me before it could even take off. He said he would." My voice broke. I knew I must have sounded like an idiot. My fears sounded much more rational in my head.

"It just wouldn't work," I continued.

Eddy shook my shoulder, urging me to look up at him. He was leaning down over me, probably trying to comfort me. My hands were shaking as they clutched the ends of my shorts. "You'd be safe if you stayed with one of us, right?"

I shook my head, although that did sound like a good option. "He would find me."

Eddy still sounded incredulous. "That's just what he wants you to think, Edd. He's nothing but a pathetic old freak. He can't hurt you."

I sobbed. "He already has!"

I was surprised and a little confused when Eddy pulled my face into his chest, patting my back. "It's okay," he whispered. "I won't let anything happen. I promise. Your dad's a total dick."

I laughed through my tears. "I know, he is."

"You should come stay with me tonight. We'll talk to my parents, and…"

I sat up quickly. "No! No, we can't tell your parents." Over the years, Eddy's parents had become like a second family, and the thought of them knowing my shame was unbearable. "I – I promised I would stay with Ed tonight," I added.

"We'll tell him to come over too."

I couldn't think of any more protests. Why should I refuse such a good offer? Now that Eddy had snuck out confirmation for his suspicions, a sleepover would have a whole new purpose: protection and comfort. Still, I felt incredibly vulnerable and as though my fate had been placed in his and Ed's hands.

"Okay," I finally said.

"We're going to figure this out," he said gently, rubbing my shoulder. "Okay? There's nothing to worry about."

I placed my hand on Eddy's, feeling as though my prayers had been answered. "Thank you," I choked.

"That's what friends are for, dumb ass."

Suddenly, I remembered what I'd been meaning to ask for a while. "Eddy, what happened to your face?"

He shrugged. "Nothing. Just Kevin."

"Oh." I nodded. "Being a jerk as usual?"

"Yeah, he was saying some crap about you."

I smiled, feeling my lower lip tearing but not really minding. "Oh, Eddy! I'm touched!"

"Shut up," he sighed angrily.

Just then, we both perked up at the sound of my name. I stood and looked down the hall, though there was nothing there.

"Did you hear that?" I asked. Eddy nodded just as it came again. I realized it was my mother downstairs and motioned for Eddy to stay put.

"Yes?" I called from before the banister.

I saw my mother looking up at me, dressed nicely but looking as hard-faced as ever. "Your father wants to have a word with you."

I followed her eyes when they darted to my side, and I saw Eddy standing there with an unreadable expression. "He won't do anything if he knows you're here," I assured him.


	7. EDDY 3 the penultimate chapter

**AN:** Thanks everyone for your feedback and support. Message to MissAkito: thank you so much for sharing your personal story! It sounds like you've been through a lot, and I really appreciate you talking about it in your review. I'm really glad to know this is at least a little realistic… I can see what happened to you being common in male-dominated households, and I hope these next couple chapters don't veer too much. Thanks again, your thoughts and sharing is greatly appreciated! :D

Chapter 7

I wasn't sure whether or not to be scared when I found out Edd's dad was home.

I'd only met the guy once before, but I figured he was normal ninety percent of the time. Even back then, Edd had been afraid of him; maybe I'd been too quick to assume he was a harmless guy. Now that I knew he'd been beating his child, I expected to see him in a much different light.

Edd's mom seemed to stare at me for an unnecessarily long time as her son jogged down the stairs. When she finally walked away, I felt alone and out of place. It was almost like the house itself was unwelcoming, though I'd never really noticed it before now.

A man's voice could be heard through the walls, and my earlier sense of normality morphed into fear. What if he tried something and I couldn't protect Double D? I had no idea how to handle the situation; a big part of me was afraid of the mysterious man, and a bigger part wanted nothing more than to smash his face against the wall and watch him cry like the coward he clearly was. As I headed down the stairs, I couldn't shake the image of Edd praying, crying, bruised and defeated. I couldn't wait to get him out of this house and reveal his father for what he was.

I ran to the kitchen entrance when I heard commotion, feeling an iron fist clamp onto my guts.

Just like earlier, though, I found something much less disturbing than my imagination had allowed me to expect. Edd's dad was angry enough, but he didn't strike me as violent at the moment. He seemed to notice me immediately when I came into view, lingering in the doorway and waiting for something to happen. "Who is this?" Edd's mom snapped. I gave her a what the fuck type of look; had the woman not seen me five frigging seconds ago?

Edd seemed to straighten out of his submissive pose when he noticed me. "Oh, um… This is Eddy. Remember?" He looked relieved to see me, but that only creeped me out even more.

I stepped into the kitchen, only to be barked at like a junkyard dog. "Young man, go home. Eddward has family matters to attend to."

Something told me he didn't have the right to talk to me at all. I guess people who sneer just piss me off, and this guy was wearing an I-smell-rotten-eggs-and-I-think-it's-coming-from-you expression that made me want to power shove him into the next lifetime. So, instead of obeying him, I froze and stood in place to think of a better way out. Edd was looking at me over the shoulder, biting his lip. This time I wouldn't ignore an obvious cry for rescue, especially with his tool of a father standing so close by.

"Eddy, was it? Listen, this isn't the best time. We need to have a serious talk with Eddward, and we'd like some privacy."

"I'm not leaving without Double D, you tremendous fuckbag."

At that moment, the room seemed to fill with a ringing silence. Even I was shocked at my own words, but it took a lot not to laugh out loud at Mr. Ass-Wipe's gaping face. It needed to be said, but now I was stuck between running out the door and risking going too far. I could already see his calm façade melting away to reveal the violent freak I knew him for. Once upon a time, I thought Sockhead was crazy for his paranoia about getting in trouble, but now I could see what he saw. I could see the psychotic side hidden behind a pair of pretentious glasses. Anger pounded through my blood like electricity, along with the adrenaline that came from saying such a statement out loud.

He unclenched his jaw just long enough to breathe, "Ex_cuse_ me?"

My feet took me to the middle of the floor where I jammed myself between Edd and his father. "I'll leave, but Double D's coming with me."

I completely ignored Edd's quiet pleas for me to stop. I was on a roll and now refused to go without telling this guy what a douche bag he was.

"Eddward, you are _not_ to associate with this boy any longer!" he shouted.

Fists clenched, I retaliated with, "I just saw you jerk Edd around, and don't pretend I didn't! I mean, look, he's covered in bruises all the time! Did you seriously think no one would notice?"

He shoved his finger right at my face and growled, "You listen here. I would never, and I mean _never_, lay a hand on my child. I don't like what you're insinuating, and I hope you know how much trouble these kinds of accusations could get you into."

His wife piped up momentarily, saying, "Jack, just let him leave. For heaven's sake, just let them go."

Without missing a beat, I flipped up both middle fingers and said, "This is from me and your son. It means go fuck yourself. Any questions?"

His reaction was definitely not what I'd expected. Rather than freezing up in anger like before, he bounded past me and yanked Edd towards him, scolding him through clenched teeth. I saw the situation get violent and yanked him right back, too furious to be careful, even as he audibly winced. Before I could even celebrate my statement, it had ruined everything and I knew it. He knew I was wise to his ploy, and therefore he had no need to hide his true nature. I guess he wanted to get in one more hit, because that's what he did. Even with my arm clutching Edd's, the bastard smacked him straight across the face.

I felt a jolt go through my chest. Even after all the times we'd been bullied, I'd never seen someone so ruthlessly attack Double D. I pulled him away and shoved him towards the entrance as fast as I could, then shoved as hard as I could. He hardly budged at all, and suddenly I felt about as tiny as a newborn mouse. His eyes bore into mine, and suddenly I knew I'd been wrong all along. He may have been a coward, but he was no pushover, and maybe he really was dangerous.

My anger won over my fears as I backed up. "Don't you come near us. Don't you dare come near Double D. I'm not afraid of you."

He stepped towards me just a bit before I turned and bolted, dragging Edd along with me. We ran through the puddle-covered streets, letting the rain and our own panting drown out the tornado we'd left behind us. I could feel Edd jerking himself away from me, but I didn't turn around, I just kept going, tugging him as hard as I could until he finally broke free.

"Double D!" I shouted, needing to yell in order to be heard at all. "What are you doing?"

"I have to go back!"

"What?"

"I have to go back there right now!"

His words made no sense to me at all, like he was speaking another language. I hardly had time to register them before he ran off, surprisingly fast even though he'd been limping before. I hurried after him, terrified, confused, and angry all at the same time.

"Double D, no!" Was he insane?

Just as he was nearing the front door, I grabbed him by the ankles and he fell to the ground. Before I knew it, the bottom of his shoe had made contact with my face. I cried out in pain and surprise, still in shock after what had happened.

The front door slammed. I stumbled to my feet and followed him inside as fast as I could.

Though the door sealed off the pounding rain, I almost didn't notice the difference in volume. From where I was standing, I could hear pots and pans banging, voices shouting, bodies slamming up against the walls and counters. I ran into the kitchen with the sole purpose of dragging Edd out of there; whether we did it in a dignified way was up to him.

When I got there, though, I saw what had made Edd act so irrationally before. He was trying to protect that woman.

I didn't get it at first, but I guess that's just who Edd is. He forgives. Just a minute ago, his mother's tone told me she'd prefer it if Edd left their lives forever, though I couldn't understand why. Now Edd was desperately trying to pry his parents apart, and his mother was crying angry tears, covering up a bloody nose with her thin, manicured hand.

For the umpteenth time that day, time slowed. I saw Edd's family for how broken they really were, though Edd seemed the only one who cared if there was a shard of love between them. He may have feared his father, but the look on his face was that of a protective animal as he tore him away from his mother, throwing punches and trying to jam himself between them to shield her. All I could think was that she didn't deserve it, but at that moment she looked really weak.

"I'm calling the cops!" I shouted over the commotion. Edd's mother jerked away from the two of them and ran out the door into the wet night. The three of us were actually still as she drove away, screeching down the street.

In seconds, Edd and his father were at each other's throats. I could hear the bastard blaming Edd, saying he wished he'd never been born, saying he'd always destroyed his chances at happiness. Now that he had no one to protect, Edd could do nothing but soak in all the insults, crumbling right before my eyes. I'd promised to call the police, but that thought had already left my mind. The eye of the storm was the perfect opportunity for me to swoop in and get him out, which was what I did.

This time, I managed to stop myself from taking out my anger on the old man. I had the overwhelming urge to spit right in his pompous face, but all of us had taken enough risks tonight. I pulled Edd out the door as quickly as possible, half expecting to be thwarted again. However, his dad seemed to have given up. He yelled after us, but I pretended not to hear the scathing reprimands, and we both knew he didn't have balls enough to chase us into the streets. Edd was sobbing behind me, taking hard, clumsy steps as if he couldn't see at all.

It had been a crazy few minutes. I felt deflated; the entire day had been exhausting. I slid my door open with weak arms. Edd crawled onto my bed and I laid down beside him, closing my eyes and trying to catch my breath. Though I felt beaten and disgusted by what I'd witnessed tonight, I also felt a strange rush. Telling him off, even just a little, had been outstandingly satisfying. Now that we were at my house and safe, I felt like I'd just woken up from a long nightmare.

Finally, Edd spoke: "Now what do we do?"

I scooted closer to him, debating whether or not to rub his arm. I gulped when I saw the red marks all over it, some of them caused by me. Suddenly I felt really low, as if I was just as abusive as his old man; memories of pushing him around and beating him up for no reason flashed through my mind, making me grit my teeth in guilt.

"We'll be okay," I told him. "You're safe. We'll call the cops, and everything'll be all right. 'Kay?" When I reached out to touch him, he jerked away violently.

He curled up with a sob, covering his head with his arms. "I'm sorry," he wailed. "I'm so sorry, Eddy."

Before I knew it, my cheek was pressed against his back. Warmth radiated through his sopping wet T-shirt. "Sshhhh," I whispered. "Come on."

I didn't know what he was apologizing for. I didn't know what to say. Honestly, I felt more helpless than ever, only this time I was too tired to be angry. I placed a hand on his shoulder, looking at my fingers as they stroked the red cloth. Was I too rough with him? Not just tonight, but all the time?

"I didn't know he'd be home," he moaned. "He's always there when I least expect him, you know? I just… I never meant for you to get hurt."

"Hurt? What are you talking about?"

He tensed up, probably shrugging. I guess he knew I was admittedly freaked out by what had happened, but at the moment I couldn't feel much more than relief. I didn't understand why Edd wasn't happy to be gone; I thought he would be glad to be out of there, but he seemed more depressed than ever. "Everything'll be okay from now on," I assured him, rubbing his arm under the sleeve.

To my surprise, he shook his head. Voice muffled, he said, "No. It's not okay. It's not that simple. It'll never be okay, ever."

Exhaustion won me over and I gave up on making him feel better. My words had no effect. "I'm calling Ed," I said, hoping he'd brighten up at least a little with the big guy around.

He didn't answer, but I knew that was what he needed. Tonight would change everything; I could already feel that the world had shifted somehow. Whether Edd was ready to accept it or not, he'd be a free agent before he could blink. There was no way I'd keep his secret after what I'd seen tonight, no matter how much he begged. Edd was smarter than to think it was a good idea to keep hiding. I knew he'd been trapped before, but I'd rescued him…. Right? From what I could see, his cage was open but he just wouldn't step out.

"Hello?"

"Ed, it's me. Come over."

"Huh? But, I'm supposed to look after Sa…"

I didn't let him finish. "ARGH! Okay, take her over to Jimmy's and get over here. Double D needs you."

"…Really?"

"Yes, really. If your mom wants to know, just tell her Double D was hurt. It's not a lie."

After we hung up, Edd seemed to have calmed down a little. I didn't get back in bed, though, after how he'd flinched before.

"You feeling okay?" I asked timidly.

"I don't know."

I stayed still for a while, trying to gather my thoughts. Why didn't this feel like a victory to him? Personally, I felt on top of the world. It felt pretty great to tell that guy to fuck off.

Instead of pushing the envelope, I lifted the box of Kleenex from my bedside table and set it before him. After a pause, he reached out a shaky hand and grabbed one, sniffling.

"You'll be okay," I said, though he probably didn't hear me. My voice came out small and dry.

In just a few minutes, Ed was knocking at my bedroom door. I let him in and gave him a quick lecture about being careful, but he was already giving me a worried, knowing look. The two of us ventured toward the bed and ended up on either side of him. Without speaking, he sat up and leaned against Ed, who encased him in his arms right away. I'd never seen such a serious look on his face; he squeezed his eyes shut, pulling Edd closer and closer to him until I had to tell him to ease up.

I didn't get why Double D would let Ed hold him but I couldn't. It's not like I was jealous or anything, I was just wondering. It didn't really make sense; I mean, Ed smells like a dirty gym bag and Sockhead of all people hates to be wrapped in a sweaty armpit.

Over the next few minutes, none of us said a word. I guess me and Edd were both thinking the same thing, and Lumpy was probably just confused. Still, he seemed to understand what kind of state Edd was in. For a second, his eyes lifted up to meet mine, and he smiled sadly. I frowned, feeling stuck at a crossroads. I was always the one who led my friends and told them what to do, but suddenly I felt completely clueless. Where do we go from here?

Edd had started crying again. I wondered if he was sad about his useless mom, or maybe still felt guilty. From what I could tell, his dad had done more damage than a slap across the face, so why would getting hit tonight make him so upset?

Ed pulled a tissue from the box and sloppily wiped the tears and snot from Edd's face. With my head cocked to the side, I stared off at the wall, still working to organize the chaos in my head. My room felt shut off from reality, my head swimming with images and rain.

"It's okay," Ed cooed, rocking Edd back and forth. "Double D, please stop crying."

I leaned over and pressed my face against Edd's back again, this time wrapping my arms around him. Ed reached out and pulled me into his hug. For what seemed like a lifetime, the three of us stayed latched together, me and Ed whispering to Double D until he finally quieted down. Even when silence took over, we didn't pull apart. I refused to let them see the tears that now poured down my cheeks, onto my trembling lip, onto my hand that clutched Edd's shirt in a shaky fist.

**~X~X~**

The next morning was no less cloudy than the one before.

Still, things felt a lot fresher when I woke up to the natural light. Once I'd rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, yesterday's events hit me like a ton of bricks, and I breathed a sigh of relief to see Edd and Ed sleeping at my left. At least he hadn't tried anything crazy yet, and this time I had Ed here to restrain him if he decided to be a hero again and run back over there.

I settled back into a comfortable position, blushing (because it was warm in there, okay?) when Edd's hand landed on my chest. I lifted it off and set it in front of him, wondering how we'd all ended up under the covers. The sheets were still damp from our rain and sweat soaked clothes.

The last time we'd slept in the same bed… it felt like years ago. I guess I thought I'd outgrown it, thought it was gay and everything. I had to admit, though, that morning was pretty nice. Before my friends woke up, I listened to them sleep, finding it hard to keep my eyes open. I guess I'd always gone to sleep before Edd, so I didn't realize how loud he snored until now. I smiled and pulled the blanket up over his shoulder, hoping he'd feel a little better when he regained consciousness.

Outside, the rain was still falling with a soothing pitter-patter sound. The horrors of last night felt distant already, and I hoped beyond hope it would stay that way.

A few peaceful minutes ticked by before Edd's eyes finally opened. We smiled at each other, then awkwardly shifted around. Ed was still snoring, hanging off the edge of the bed. Double D dipped his head forward on the pillow and sighed, bunching himself up and leaning against me. I rested my chin on his head, deciding not to bring last night up after all. There was no point in talking about it; we both knew it was on our minds.

Edd's hand moved forward and he stroked my chin lazily. I could feel myself getting uncomfortable, but I didn't want to offend him so I squeezed my eyes shut and stayed tense and still.

"Look at you," he whispered with laughter in his voice. "Wow, Kevin really did a number on you."

I opened my eyes and smiled at him, relieved to hear something that wasn't totally depressing come out of his mouth. "Well, look who's talking." Immediately I felt I'd gone too far, but Edd snorted with laughter anyway, scooting closer to me.

"Thanks," he whispered. "Thanks for saving me."

My heart jumped at his words. He made me sound like a knight in shining armor or some shit. "Y-you're welcome. How ya feeling?"

He shrugged. "I guess it's nice to be here with you two instead of with my father, but I'm still worried."

"About what?"

"About everything."

To my relief, he pulled away and rolled over onto his back. I did the same, and we looked up at my ceiling together. The dull light bounced off my mirror ball, creating white lights on the wall adjacent. Edd sighed and mumbled, "Do you really think I can stay away?"

"Of course. I'm not letting you go back there. Ever."

_Oh, great. Now he's crying again_.

I felt my throat tighten up and bit my tongue to keep me from tearing up. Edd sniffed and wiped his eyes, saying, "Last night, I mean… I'm just sorry you had to see all that."

"Come on, Double D. Don't apologize, for frick's sake. You're the one who had to live with the guy."

He turned his head to look at me, then glanced off into space. "The thing is, I never really saw this as a problem until a couple years ago. He used to be gone all the time, even more than my mother, and then… I don't know, something must have happened at work. He started showing up at our house at random times and... hurting me. You know, maybe things will get better over there once he…"

I interrupted him before he could finish the thought. "No. No. Sockhead, don't fucking stand up for him! Look, the guy's a psychopath and you know it, and he's just messing with your head if you really think you're safe there."

He was quiet, and I started to think my tone had been too harsh. I remembered the way his father had barked at him like a junkyard dog, told him he was useless. Had I ever said that to him? I knew I said stupid things when I was mad, and I also knew I never apologized for it because Edd never made me. As we lay there, I remembered all the times Edd had scolded me for being mean to Ed but that he'd never made me apologize for pushing _him_ around.

"Am I, like… mean to you?" I asked softly, praying I wouldn't start crying like a big pussy.

He swallowed, then said, "It's different. My father's just a cruel person, and you're… I don't know. Maybe sometimes, but it's different."

"How?"

Instead of answering, he wrapped his fingers around my hand. His mouth twitched into a tiny smile, then he went back to staring at me with a powerful expression. He didn't need to say anything, because I knew already. He knew that no matter what I did, my purpose was never the same as his father's. I wanted to fix things, to stop getting mad and stop hurting him, but I knew the best I could do was show him that deep down, I really cared about him. Maybe I'd never be able to say it right with words, but I think he knew.

As I struggled to hold back my emotions, I gradually got more comfortable holding his hand. My thumb moved across his knuckles slowly. His hand felt cold and small, but it gripped mine with the tender strength I knew he had. Beside us, Ed was quiet, probably just waking up. The sun still hid behind thick rain clouds, but I'd never seen Edd's face look so bright and hopeful. Inside, I breathed a long sigh of relief. My hand squeezed his gently, my way of saying we'd get through this together.

"Hi," Ed whispered, waving at me from his side of the bed.

"Hey, Lumpy," I answered, snaking my hand out of Edd's and sitting up.

Edd curled on his side and whispered, "Good morning, Ed. Thanks for being here with me last night… and all those nights before."

I wasn't sure what he meant, but Ed just nodded at him. Since when did Monobrow have a knowing expression? Suddenly, they were looking at each other like they were communicating with their minds or something. I guess when people know each other as well as we do, words aren't always necessary.

Suddenly, Edd started giggling like a mental patient. It started out normal, then turned into a full on laugh attack. He was doubled over when I asked, "Dude, what's so funny?" This might have been a good day, but I couldn't wrap my mind around what could possibly be funny at all.

"'Any questions?'" he finally managed to say. "Oh, Eddy, that was the most amusing thing I've ever heard in my life!"

Ed was laughing too, but he probably didn't know why. Guess he doesn't always need a reason. "You don't get out much, do you?" I asked.

He pushed me playfully, then started giggling in his hand again.

"You know, my mom's gonna kick my ass when she finds out what I said to your dad," I thought aloud.

"Could you remind me one more time?"

I smirked, looking at Ed first. It was weird that Double D wanted me to say the mother of all swear words in front of him, but I guess he must have enjoyed it last night in spite of himself. "I think it was something along the lines of, go fuck yourself."

Ed gasped. "You said a wordy dird!"

"I bet that felt pretty good," Edd grinned.

I raised my eyebrows and nodded, trying to focus on anything besides his girly face. "Yeah. It felt pretty great, actually."

"Wish I could tell him to go fuck himself."

Ed's jaw nearly hit the floor. I just snorted with shocked laughter and said, "Whoa, Sockhead! Didn't know you had it in ya."

Just then, he hoisted himself up and pressed his mouth against the wall, cupping with his hand. "Go fuck yourself," he whispered. "You never loved me and I'm glad."

I didn't have a witty comeback this time. I just twisted my thumbs and bit my lip while he settled back against the headboard, blushing but looking satisfied. I was used to mood swings, but nothing this intense.

"I didn't want your parents to hear," he said quietly. "Otherwise I would have screamed it a thousand times."

"Naughty, naughty!" Ed wagged his finger at Edd, just as surprised as I was to hear him say something like that.

"I'm going to tell my mom what's going on," I said, needing a temporary way out of the heavy room. "Is that okay?"

He thought for a second, then nodded. "You two play nice now," I said as I walked out the door.

Now that I was back home, it started to dawn on me that Edd really didn't have cause to feel safe. He was probably still afraid his dad would drive an axe through the wall and come after him today. My house felt warm and quiet after last night, and seeing my mom rustling around in the cabinets sent a sinking feeling through my stomach. I guess Edd's never really had a mom in his life; his wasn't much more than a shell of pent-up bitterness, and as far as I could tell, she'd just ditched him. I couldn't imagine what it would be like to come home every day to a cold, empty house, with no mom there to fuss over you.

"Hey, Mom?"

She looked up right away and gasped, running toward me. "Eddy, where on Earth were you yesterday? And what happened to your face?"

The memory almost made me laugh, it was so unimportant compared to other things. "Nothing, just a fight at school. Um, hey, listen…"

"A fight? Oh, no, Eddy, not again! Your principal called, by the way, so don't think you got out of being grounded. You know the rules, Eddy; it's your third detention this month, which means no privileges for the rest of the week."

"Okay, fine, just…"

"I don't want to hear any excuses, and no whining… you are forbidden from using the telephone, from staying out after school, and from the Internet until further notice."

"All right, but can I just say something real quick?"

I think it was my lack of bratty anger that made her stop more than anything. Something told me, in a childish way, that she could fix everything with her mom magic if she found out what was going on.

"Um, Double D's here, and, um… I mean, I know I'm in trouble, but it's important that he stays away from home for a while."

She seemed to understand right away, straightening up with a worry wrinkle on her brow. "Why, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, just some problems with his parents."

She raised her eyebrows, decoding my message in her head. "Eddy, if this is something serious, you'd better let me know."

"It is a little serious."

She nodded, still frowning with concern. "Well, all right, but you'd better be telling the truth." Her stern attitude was officially dissolved. "So he is here right now?" I nodded. "Tell him to come out here for a moment, would you?"

When I got back to my room, I found it hard to pull Ed and Double D apart. Ed was holding him again, comforting him while he cried. Man, wasn't he dried out yet?

"Hey," I whispered, crawling up onto the bed. "what's wrong?"

He shook his head, and Ed rested his cheek upon it, closing his eyes.

I felt kinda guilty making Edd leave his comfort zone, but I knew it was for the best. "Come on, Sockhead. My mom wants to talk to you. It'll be okay."

To my surprise, he seemed to believe me. I took him by the shoulder and led him out of the room, motioning for Ed to follow us. The house was filled with warm breakfast smells; if it wasn't for the circumstances, it would feel like a completely normal day. If I hadn't gone to Edd's house last night to see him, he would have gotten his ass handed to him while I sat at home complaining about my parents grounding me. As we walking down the hall, Ed holding Double D's tiny hand, I felt like we were part of some parallel universe. I could only thank God that I'd gotten there when I did.

We found my mom sitting at the dining room table, and she said, "Would you two mind giving us a minute?"

"Sure." I glanced at Edd, then walked through the kitchen to the other dining room entrance to eavesdrop, pulling Ed behind me by the sleeve. She probably expected it anyway. I couldn't rest unless I heard their agreement for myself; now I knew for sure that Edd liked to shield us from the truth.

"You can sit, if you'd like," Mom said. "I just want to talk to you, that's all." She sounded a lot more convincing than Edd's dad had been.

I heard chairs scooting across the floor, then my mom's voice again: "Eddward, I'm just going to get to the point here. Did your parents do that to your face?"

He didn't answer, but I assume he nodded because my mom's next words were "I thought so."

The next few moments were quiet. I had to press my ear against the wall just to hear their voices, pushing Ed away whenever he got too close with his stinky pits. "I'm sorry to get you involved in this," Edd mumbled. "I feel so stupid for not doing anything about it earlier. I just never thought things would so bad."

"Oh, honey, it's okay. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"I just don't know what to do. My father always threatened me not to report him."

There was another silence, and then, "How long has this been going on?"

Edd sniffed. "My whole life." I felt a tightness in the back of my throat. Edd was already crying, and I itched to go in there and comfort him. If he ever knew that, I don't know what he'd say. It felt weird enough just thinking it to myself, no matter how much I tried to deny how tantalizing his fragile neediness was. "They've both been coming home more often for the past year or so, though. That's made everything so much worse… it's like now I have to be afraid every time I come home, that he might be there."

"Does he always treat you this way, or only when you get in trouble?"

Edd sobbed. "He always has some reason, it's just… I don't know, I never know what will set him off."

Ed and I were both stock still. My mom's normally strict voice was soft and soothing as she said, "Okay, it's going to be okay. I know you're upset, but you did the right thing coming someplace safe. You can stay here as long as you need to, all right? I'll talk to my husband as soon as he gets home and we'll see what we can do. Okay?"

I heard chairs scooting and immediately jumped to my feet, yanking Ed up with me. She might have suspected me of listening in, but that didn't mean I wanted her to have proof. "Cheer up," she said, her footsteps coming closer and closer to the door.

When it opened, I jumped aside and smiled innocently at my mom. She ignored my obvious spying and said, "You two go get cleaned up, and make sure Eddward doesn't go back home today. I'll discuss this with your father. And you," she said, turning to Ed, "Do your parents know you're here?"

He nodded, shuffling his feet. "Double D needs me," he mumbled.

Edd materialized behind her and stepped around toward the bathroom. "I'm sorry," I said to her quietly. "Like, what else was I supposed to do?"

To my surprise, she smiled and hugged me. "Don't be sorry, Eddy. You did the right thing. Just remember to take good care of your friend while he's here."

I nodded, hoping she'd still feel the same way when Edd's dad called and told her what I'd said. Knowing her, she'd probably say the same thing if she could, but still didn't want it coming from me.

Edd was leaning over the sink when I walked in. "Scoot over," I mumbled, knocking him gently to the side. Our bruised eyes met in the mirror as the sink slowly filled with warm water.

There was nothing to say, really. We just washed our faces with warm water and soap, wincing at our healing wounds simultaneously. Edd's hands were still shaky, and when I looked down I saw how small they looked while he squeezed the washcloth in the sink.

"I'm sure my parents will let you stay here for a while," I said, just wanting the silence to stop. "It'll be cool. We'll be like brothers and share the same bathroom."

He smiled through his tears, then giggled softly, remembering the first time he'd escaped his household to come here. "You know, my parents never did rub my feet before bed."

"Yeah, I figured you were pulling my leg. Jerk."

He laughed. "It was always nice to get out of there every once in a while. I really hate that place."

"Well, you'll like it here. We don't even own a pad of sticky notes. I mean, we do have this one white board, so… guess we'd better hide it from you before it dies of ink overload."

Every time he laughed, even if it was just to make me feel better, I felt something unclench itself from my heart.

"You're mother didn't seem too upset," he said, holding a rag against his lower lip.

"Yeah, but that'll change once your old man calls."

Edd snickered and shook his head. "Don't worry, he never will."

"Huh? Why?"

Edd smiled and squeezed me in a one-armed hug. My impulse was to pull away, but I didn't. "He doesn't know your last name."


	8. Epilogue  ED

**AN: Sorry for the long wait! **Thank you so much everyone for reviewing and reading this story! I hope this chapter gives it a satisfying ending, and I hope you all enjoyed. Thanks again! I was planning on putting an Ed chapter in the middle of the story, with dialogue and everything, but because the story really was mainly centered around Eddy and Edd, it didn't seem to fit in anywhere. So, sorry Ed fans and people who liked the attention on him. Anyway, I thought it would be appropriate for him to conclude the story since he introduced it. Thanks Ed, you're awesome!

**Some stuff:** I don't own the show. Also, the song at the end is called "Raven". It's by Jewel, I think.

Chapter 8

I really miss Double D.

It's hard to sleep without him in my bed. My room is lonely and quiet, and too dark. I miss the little smacking sounds his mouth makes when he's asleep.

Almost four months ago, he had to move out of his house and into a foster family. Ida barely ever let us come over because she liked to keep her house super duper clean, and I guess I can be a little messy. My mom changes my sheets every week now, though, and my room's cleaner than ever… but Double D still doesn't come over.

Now that summer's here, I guess things will finally calm down. This whole town's been crazy since Double D's dad went to jail. Everyone says they knew what was going on all along and they knew he was no good, that he was a psychopath. The night of the trial, my dad called him a "pompous asswipe." I knew better than to laugh. The air was so serious, like I've never felt it before. The whole town was that way for a while. You could just _feel_ how mad everyone was.

If they knew what was going on, why didn't they do anything?

Why didn't I?

I guess I always thought Double D could take care of himself. I thought that until he started crying in my bed at night… then I didn't know what to think. It was like every time I saw him, he'd gotten ten times smaller. Sometimes I was afraid he would disappear altogether; I still don't know what kept that from happening.

The judge is putting his dad away for a really long time. Even after he comes out, he won't be allowed to see Double D. He won't even be allowed within a hundred feet of him! I thought he'd be really happy to be safe from his father, but instead he just got even more sad and mopey. He cried when the cops walked his dad through the door. They were all dressed really nice. It felt eerie in the room; I got bored every once in a while and wished I could leave the trial, but what bothered me most was the clothes. I don't like dressing up nice, especially if I know there's nothing to celebrate. Even putting his dad away wasn't enough to make Double D feel better.

I still remember the first night and the last night he came to stay with me after the trial was over. I wanted him to explain to me what the judge meant by sexual abuse. He just told me meant violation, which only made me more confused. I guess he was tired of talking about it, though; we both knew he was done escaping to my house and was now stuck at Ida's, where it smelled like moth balls and a litterbox and the cat always slept next to his face.

That night, two nights after his dad went away, he didn't cry. Instead, he snuggled close to me and stroked my hand while I cried. He wiped all my tears away, just like I used to do for him, and hummed a song softly. It was nice, but it only made me miss him more the next night, and the next.

Summer makes everything better. The air is warm and clear, the birds are loud, school's almost over, and best of all, no more moth ball house! Eddy's parents have been working on getting certified for the past few months, and now they're finally foster parents, so Double D's really excited about moving in with them. I think Eddy's excited too, even if he doesn't act like it. His brother won't let either of them take his room, so Double D has to stay in Eddy's for a while, and I know they're both a little nervous. Eddy kept yelling and growling and doing all that stuff he does when I helped them move Double D's stuff into his bedroom. It was pretty funny, especially since that night he moved around in the bed just so he could lay down next to him.

I like sleeping over at their house. Double D always seems relaxed, which is a good sign. Plus, Eddy's been really nice to him. He barely ever yells at him anymore, and he even pays attention when Double D tutors us after school. He hasn't yelled at me in a while, either. It's almost like Double D's made him… softer.

I wonder what this summer will be like. Double D's always been waaaaaay across the street, but now he's just a house away. I try to remember that when it's too cold at night. At least I know he's with Eddy, probably pressing up against him because I think he does that automatically in his sleep.

I like to leave my window open at night so I can hear the crickets. Double D told me a week ago that crickets make that sound by rubbing their legs together. I didn't know that. More than anything else, it was nice to hear him spout random facts with that big smile on his face.

Things are getting better, but they'll never be the same again. I didn't have to ask; I figured it out on my own.

A few nights ago, my mom let me sleep over at Eddy's house. I'm not doing so good in math right now, so she hasn't let me see them as much as I want to. I noticed that Double D was happier than I remember seeing him… ever.

We watched movies and laughed just like we used to, and I believed it, just like I used to before those nights. Double D's dad is like a disease; he was always there, but suddenly got worse until the grownups had to come take him away. Double D is still recovering. I hope it goes away completely someday, but I'm afraid to ask him about it. I don't want him to stop smiling.

I had to go home early in the morning. When we were all crammed together in Eddy's bed, I almost asked Double D if he was getting better from his dad, but instead I said, "I can't sleep."

He smiled and hugged me, leaning his head on my shoulder. My eyes closed while he sang softly, Eddy throwing a pillow over his head and groaning as soon as his voice came out. He rubbed my back. I felt like the lullaby he was singing was my answer, even though I never asked; he read my mind, I guess.

"Fly like a raven, black honey, into the night…"

THE END.


End file.
